Sand in the Time Turner
by bookwormwithanattitude
Summary: Various missing moments in Harry Potter! Like Ron's thoughts and memories when he finds out Ginny has been taken to the Chamber, Hermione's struggles at the Yule Ball and many more moments trapped in time! Update: Harry and Ginny are stalked!
1. Save Ginny

_Author's note: I don't know if any of you haven't forgotten about me, but I used to write a bit of Harry Potter fanfiction, including a fic called Horcrux Hunt about what I'd conjectured the well, Horcrux hunt, would go like from Hermione's point of view (this was pre- Deathly Hallows, of course). Afterward, I went off fanfiction, except for the occasional comic fanfic. Well, recently I reread the entire HP series in preperation for the HBP movie, and my old love for Harry Potter resurfaced in full force. As such, I've decided to write some new missing moments and go back and edit some old fanfic- most significantly I will be redoing "Gathering DarK" and write a new version of "All Grown Up" that will be DH compliant._

_But enough about that. I also looked back at some old "missing moments"- moments in canon from that were skipped over, and moments from a certain characters point of view- I posted on a community called Thinkpotter. They go back to just after OotP came out, back when I was thirteen of fourteen. Considering my age, I was suprised at how coherent they were. So I decided to do some heavy editing on them, and post them here. The first couple of missing moments will be old, freshly edited ones. The ones after that will be entirely new._

_This first one is about Ron's thought process in CoS when he found out about Ginny being taken. It's my favorite old missing moment I have, and I'm very pleased I could edit it to make it better. Like I said, it was written just after OotP but even then I had a great love for Ginny and thought she was pretty much perfect for Harry. It pleases me to think I predicted their getting together, as it's the only thing about HP I EVER managed to predict on my own, except for R/Hr (though that hardly counts) and the the Hogshead barman being Aberforth._

_Anyway, here it is! Hope you enjoy!_

**Save Ginny**

Harry pulled Ron into the teacher's wardrobe. Harry fit rather easily, of course, but Ron bumped his head against the ceiling and got his foot stuck in someone's coat. Ugh, it smelled like Snape's. Just as Ron had worked his foot loose, rubbing his head irritably, he heard McGonagall's voice; he leaned over a bit to see through the half open wardrobe door. He hoped he wouldn't be spotted.

"…A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the chamber itself."

The teachers screamed and squealed. Oh hell, Ron thought. Which one? This was sick. They had to tell the teachers now. He looked over and saw Harry, listening intently. Maybe they should wait to find out who it was before they burst out and told what they had discovered…

"How can you be sure?" Snape asked. For once, he looked shaken. Ron was surprised to see him showing an emotion other than hatred, anger or contempt. Maybe Snape was going soft.

"The Heir of Slytherin left another message," McGonagall said, her voice shaking. "Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever."

So it was a girl. Ron automatically thought of Hermione, but no, she was Petrified in the hospital wing. Besides, they'd just been with her.

Flitwick was crying…"Who is it?" Madam Hooch asked. "Which student?"

There was a short pause. Then McGonagall exhaled and said, "Ginny Weasley."

Ron felt his legs go numb. He slid down into a sitting position with a dull thump, unable to keep standing. Everything blurred and swam. He pinched his arm, some tiny part of him hoping this was a dream, but the pain told him this was real. No bloody way. How could it be Ginny? She was a pureblood. Why would the monster…it didn't make…her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever…he felt sick…Ginny couldn't be dead…she just couldn't. The teacher's voices were buzzing, he couldn't seem to hear them, his head was pounding. He forced himself to focus on what was going on. Maybe someone would burst in, saying it was trick, or a joke, if he just listened…

It seemed Lockhart had entered while he was panicking. The teachers were now talking to him.

"A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart," Snape said.

Was Snape talking about Ginny? Snape was not allowed to talk about Ginny! Snape didn't deserve to talk about Ginny! Not when he was a bloody git and Ginny was nice and brave and smart and…dead. No. No, he couldn't think of that. It was wrong, surely any second it would be proven wrong.

"We'll leave it to you … Gilderoy…" McGonagall's voice would go too soft to hear, then suddenly become clear and loud again. It was like he was listening to a broken Wireless, slipping in and out of tune. If only he could just get a grip…

"Tonight…excellent time to do it…tackle the monster…free reign at last."

"Very well…" Lockhart's voice. "In…office…getting ready."

It'd be all right then, Ron told himself. Lockhart would save Ginny. Wait a minute; what the hell was he talking about? Lockhart couldn't save anything. He was going bloody mental. Ginny….

The teachers were leaving. Harry was crouching by him.

"Ron? Ron? Ron, we need to get to the common room before we're missed. Ron? Ron, can you hear me?"

"Ginny…" Ron's voice came as a hoarse whisper. "How could it be Ginny?"

"I don't know, Ron."

Ron could hear the pity in his voice.

"We'll save her, right?" Ron said numbly.

"Of course we will."

"Just like last year, with the Stone. We saved stuff…"

"Yes, we're good at saving stuff. We'll save Ginny," Harry didn't sound convinced.

"We'll save her…"

"Sure…" Harry said. "C'mon Ron, we need to get to the Common Room."

Ron nodded mutely and let Harry pull him up. He was so dizzy when he stood up, he stumbled. Harry caught his arm and steered him towards the Common Room.

They stumbled through the portrait hole. Inside, Fred and George were stashing Dungbombs in Percy's bag.

"Hey, Ron, look at this," Fred snickered. "Percy picks up his bag and they all go off. It'll be brilliant."

Ron walked to the fire and sank down beside it.

"Hey, if you're jealous, we can put them in your bag too," Fred continued, sounding slightly irritated.

George, however, stared at Ron, then Harry.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Harry, what's wrong with him?"

Harry merely shook his head.

Just then, McGonagall stepped through the portrait hole. Ron noted numbly that she looked pale and shaky.

"This…I…I'm very sorry I have to tell you this, but something terrible has happened. A student has been taken into the Chamber. A Gryffindor."

There was a collective gasp. Everyone looked around, trying to figure out who was missing.

"The student…is…" McGonagall took a deep breath. "Ginny Weasley."

Fred dropped the dungbomb filled bag, with exploded all over the floor. McGonagall whipped around, but when she saw it was Fred who had dropped them, she looked away.

"The school will be closed. You all will be on the train back tomorrow. I suggest…you pack."

Fred and George stood there, not seeming to mind in the least that they were covered in dung. Ron looked for Percy. He had also dropped something- his prefect badge. He'd been polishing it, apparently.

McGonagall came over to them.

"Come here, Fred, George, Ron," she said kindly. "I need to talk to you."

Ron noted that she was using their first names. She must really feel sorry for them, he thought numbly to himself.

The twin followed her silently. Ron got up and grabbed Harry by the arm and they followed her. Harry looked surprised that he was being dragged along. Ron didn't know quite why he wanted Harry with him. Harry had been with him when he'd first heard…about Ginny, so it just felt like he should just be there…now. And his presence was vaguely comforting.

They went to the corner of the Common Room. All the other students were watching in horror, but they quickly looked away when McGonagall gave them all a stern look.

McGonagall beckoned Percy along. She raised her eyebrows slightly when she saw Harry with them, but said nothing about it. Instead she said, "I am so… very sorry, boys."

The words seemed empty to Ron. What did it matter if she was sorry? Could she save Ginny by being sorry?

"It's my fault," McGonagall said in a choked voice. "I'm the headmistress, I should have been able to prevent it."

They simply stared at her.

"Your parents will be alerted," McGonagall said. "Would you prefer to do it, or shall the school?"

"I'll do it," Percy said quietly. He was very pale.

"Very well."

"How did you know-?" Fred began to ask, his voice hoarse.

"We found a message on the wall," McGonagall said heavily, apparently guessing what Fred was going to say.

"What did it say?"

"It said a student had been taken into the Chamber," McGonagall told them. Ron noted the lie.

"How did you know it was Ginny?" George demanded.

"Well-well, we found her hair…"

"Her hair?" Ron heard his voice as if someone else was speaking.

"A lock of it. No one else in this school has long hair that red…"

There was a silence that followed this.

"Can we have it?" Percy finally asked.

"It's rather-well, wouldn't your parents rather-

"We'll give it to them," Ron heard himself say.

"Well, I don't think…but very well," She pulled a lock of long red hair out of her pocket and Ron saw immediately why she'd been hesitant to give it to them. It had dried blood on the end, it had apparently been yanked violently out of Ginny's head. Fred took it.

"I'm very sorry," McGonagall said again and after a long silence, she left them.

They all looked at each other. Fred was staring at the lock of hair as if maybe Ginny would spring out of it if he concentrated hard enough.

"This is my fault," Percy finally said. "I'm the oldest, I was supposed to watch her…"

"No," George said. "We teased her when we saw she was scared, we should have tried to find out…."

"I…I…I…" Ron stuttered.

"It's not anyone's fault," Harry said firmly.

There was another long silence. Then Percy said. "I'll go write Mum."

"Come on, Ron," Harry said softly, leading Ron over to where he'd been originally. The twins followed. Ron sank into an armchair and watched the leaping flames that reminded him irresistibly of Ginny's hair. His eyes began to burn as the full awful weight of it all settled in his stomach.

***

At the Burrow it had always been him and Ginny. They had been closest in age, so it was only natural for them to be together a lot of the time. Ginny had been a good mate, always game, ready for an adventure and not afraid to get her hands dirty. Ron had taught her the important things, such as the best swear words and how to make rude noises with your armpits. Growing up with Ron and the rest of the boys had made Ginny a tomboy. Feisty, funny, smart and athletic, she'd fit right in. A lot of times Ron would forget she was a girl, kind of like with Hermione. Sometimes, her being a girl was an issue though. Ron could remember when she'd gotten mad at Fred and George for not letting her practice Quidditch with the rest.

"Why can't I play?" Ginny had yelled at them.

"We don't want you messing up our brooms," Fred had said, smirking.

"You let Ron borrow it, why not me?"

"You'll get hurt," George explained.

"How come I'd get hurt and not Ron?"

"Let's think…now what's the difference between you and Ron?" Fred had said mockingly.

Ginny looked perplexed. "I'm not afraid of spiders?"

"God, Ginny, do we have to spell it out for you?"

"Spell out what?"

"You're a girl. And not just a girl, you're the youngest."

There had been a short silence.

"So?" Ginny had said.

"Well, Mum dotes on you. Ron, no one cares if Ron gets hurt, but if you do, we'll be in trouble. You might whine to mum when you break a nail or something."

"How about I break your face?" Ginny said fiercely.

"Lots of Quidditch teams have really good girl players. Besides, Ginny's not really a girl, she's a mate," Ron has said reasonably.

"Ron, stay out of this," Fred and George said together.

"Ginny, it's just Mum would kill us if you got hurt falling off. You're the only girl our family's had in ages _and _you're the youngest and you'll just have to get used to that," George said with finality, and he and Fred swept away, leaving Ginny in a towering rage.

"I can't believe this! How could they! This is so unfair!" Ginny fumed.

"Yeah," Ron said, watching them go. "It is. But, maybe, you could do what I do when they're tetchy."

"What's that?"

"Break into the broom shed. It unlocks with a good kick."

"Brilliant!"

So when Fred and George weren't around, Ron had flown with her. Ginny had picked it up very quickly. After about a month, she could catch anything Ron threw at her.

"It figures," Ron had said, grinning. "You're a Weasley after all. We're all good at

Quidditch. Well, except for Percy. I bet by the time you get to Hogwarts, you could make the House Team."

"That'd show Fred and George," Ginny laughed.

Ron looked across at Fred and George. They looked miserable. He wondered if they felt guilty now, for not letting Ginny play. She could have made the House Team, once a slot opened up, Ron was sure of it. She'd like that, being on the team with Harry. She'd be a good Chaser or a Seeker. Keeping was more his area of expertise than Ginny's, but she'd be decent at that too. Hell, she'd even of made an all right Beater. But that was over now. Ginny would never play Quidditch again…

***  
The night before he'd gone to Hogwarts had been sad for Ginny.

"I'll have no one to hang round with all year," she'd sighed. "It'll be SO boring. What will I do? I wish I was going to Hogwarts."

"I'll send you an owl every week," he'd assured her.

She didn't cheer up a bit at this.

"Hey, maybe we could get Mum to let us camp out," he'd suggested. "We can make s'mores and everything."

"Okay," Ginny sighed. Camping out was their favorite thing to do. That night, they'd hiked deep into the thick brambly woods and built a campfire. They saw no need for tents as it was a clear night with a velvety sky and jewel bright stars twinkling above them.

They sat in silence over the fire for a while, watching their marshmallows roast over the flames. Both were gloomy and lost in thought. Finally, Ron voiced his anxieties. "I hope I get into Gryffindor. Everyone will kill me if I don't," he told his sister miserably.

"Of course you will, Ron," Ginny rolled her eyes. "You're brave enough."

"I dunno…"

"What about that time I got bit by that snake? It was poisonous, I thought I was going to die, but you didn't freak out or panic at all. You GRABBED the snake, Ron, and threw it into the forest. Then you carried me to Mum. Tell me that wasn't brave."

"Mum said it was stupid that I grabbed the snake."

"Well, yeah," Ginny shrugged. "But it was also brave."

Ron fell silent. Ginny looked at him.

"You still look worried."

"What if I don't make any friends?" He despaired.

"Oh, God. Of course you will, Ron."

"And I'll be bad at the magic."

"Honestly Ron. Everyone in our family is good. You'll be too."

"Yeah. Our family. Charlie the Dragon Keeper! Bill, who was Head Boy! Percy, Prefect Supreme! And Fred and George, The Pranksters! And Ron, who isn't particularly good at anything," He snorted.

"Rubbish," Ginny said, exasperated. "You're good at chess, aren't you?"

"Wow. That'll help me save the world," Ron said sarcastically

"You're a good mate, too," she plowed on, ignoring him.

"Now I'm Ron, the Good Mate!"

"And you ARE smart. I'm so tired of your bloody insecurities."

"You don't understand, Ginny. You're the only girl. You have something special that sets you apart in our family. I have nothing."

"Ron, you'll do fine." Ginny said with an air of finality in her voice.

Ron sighed and looked at his s'more mournfully. Ginny just didn't get it.

"Do you know anyone else in your year that's going to be there?" Ginny asked after a while.

"Fred says Marilyn Brown's little sister, Lavender, is supposed to be joining up this year. And Eric Goldstein's little brother too. And errrr…you know of any wizards around eleven?"

Ginny looked thoughtful for a minute. Then her eyes suddenly widened as big as dinner plates. "Oh my God! I just realized! Harry Potter!"

"Eh, say what?"

"Harry Potter! He'll be turning eleven this year! I was just reading, yesterday, his birthday is July 31st, eleven years ago. Oh My God, Ron! Harry Potter's going to be in your year!" she was bouncing up and down on the log where she was perched.

"The Boy Who Lived," Ron said, as shocked as Ginny. "In my year. I wonder what he'll be like."

"They say he was raised by Muggles," Ginny said in wonder.

"I wonder what house he'll be in?"

"Gryffindor, of course," Ginny said dismissively. Then she screamed. "You'll be sleeping in the same dormitory as Harry Potter!"

"Great," Ron muttered. "Bet he'll be the best in our year in magic, if he defeated You-Know-Who when he was a year old."

"Probably," Ginny cried. "Oh Ron, promise write me and tell me everything about him! Promise!"

"Okay, fine. But I probably won't get to know him that well. Harry Potter wouldn't want to bother with the likes of me."

How wrong he had been, Ron thought, looking at Harry who was staring into the fire. Who knew Harry would be like any other kid? Well, he wasn't. Ron remembered that look on his face last year, when he said he was going after You- Know-Who. Harry was a hero, but he didn't act like it. He just wanted to be normal.

But Ginny had worshipped Harry. Worse than that, she'd turned into…someone who wasn't Ginny. The snarky, fiery, Ginny he had known who had always been good for a laugh or a fight, suddenly turned into a simpering, shy, squealing girl when Harry was around, or whenever he was mentioned.

Ron had been disgusted with her, acting like such that. He'd ridiculed her for it. Ron's insides burned with guilt now at the thought. He tried to stop himself from crying, but he couldn't. He was remembering that time Ginny had woken him from that nightmare…

***

"Ron! Ron!"

"Arrgh!" Ron woke up in a cold sweat to find Ginny next to his bed, looking concerned.  
"You were having a nightmare. Muttering something about a Queen…

"Oh," Ron shook his head to clear it. "Oh, right. I was dreaming about the chess match at the end of last year. I have that dream sometimes." He wiped sweat from his brow and sat up.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Ron shrugged. "It's not that bad. All that happens is I kind of…relive that moment at the end when the Queen was about to knock me out. It was scary, that second."

"You were so brave," Ginny said, perching herself on the end of his bed.

"Not as brave as Harry. Why are here, anyway?"

"I wanted to talk. Tell me about Harry!" Ginny said excitedly, bouncing a little on his bed. She always lit up at the mention of his name.

"Oh come on, Ginny, not again, you must have made me talk about him ten thousand times…"

"Please?" Ginny wheeldled.

"Oh alright," Ron sighed, resigned, knowing Ginny would pester him until he told. "Well…er…he's really quite nice…."

Ginny listened attentively.

"Yes, er, really nice. To everyone. Except Malfoy, but who'd be nice to him? Anyway, he's really easygoing, a good mate, you know, he's always there for you. Keeps his cool really well. Wish I could do that."

He looked at Ginny, who was still listening raptly.

"And he's really brave, like I said. It's kind of scary, sometimes, how brave he is. He'll do anything, seriously, it's like he isn't afraid of anything. Well, he's afraid, but he doesn't let that stop him, it's like he doesn't care…." Ron trailed off. Ginny was still looking eager. He plowed on.

"I remember, the only time he ever yelled at me and Hermione this year was when Dumbledore was gone and we realized You-Know-Who was going after the Stone. He was a bit creepy. He just got all pale and said "That's it then. I have to go after the Stone." And Hermione said something like "You'll be expelled" and Harry started shouting "So what? If You-Know-Who comes back, it won't matter, he'll kill us all, me first and I have to stop him if I can." It was weird. It felt, for a second, like he could do anything, like he wasn't afraid of anything. And he won't actually say You-Know-Who," Ron added as an afterthought. "He says the real name, even though I tell him not to."

Ginny looked awed. "What else?"

"Well, his family is really stupid," Ron said. "They treated him really badly. At first it was like he was so surprised I was actually his friend, he kept looking at me like he wasn't sure I was real. And they make him sleep under the stairs, in this cupboard. And he was all surprised when he got presents for Christmas like it was the best thing in the world. I met them, they're really unpleasant. I think they're doing something to him, that's why we're not getting his letters."

Ginny sighed. "That's so sad." She leaned her head against Ron's knee. "I wish I could see him."

"You will," Ron said confidently. He and the twins were planning on taking the Flying Car to rescue Harry the night after next. But he wasn't telling Ginny that. The way she was acting, she'd throw herself on Harry as soon as he got in the car….

***

Ron looked over at Harry blearily. Ginny had been so infatuated with him. He had been disgusted by her personality change, her soppiness…he'd never missed an opportunity to mock her about it. He could remember talking to her, a couple of days after Diagon Alley.

"What's that you're writing in?" Ron asked Ginny. He's come into the empty living room to find Ginny curled on the couch, scribbling away in a small black book.

"None of your business," Ginny snapped, closing the book.

"Is that a…a…what do ya call 'em?"

"A diary."

"That."

"Yes, as a matter of fact it is." She sniffed.

"What are you writing?"

"I'm not telling you- HEY!" She cried indignantly as he made a move to swipe it. She spun on the couch and kicked his hand away.

"Ow! That hurt!" Ron cried, rubbing his hand.

"Well, don't be snitching my stuff!" Ginny snapped.

"I bet you're writing gushy stuff about Harry in there," Ron sneered.

Ginny turned as red as her hair. "Shut up, Ron."

"Oh, Harry is the best boy ever. I look into his bright green eyes and I am sucked in…oh, Harry, Harry, I loooooove you!" Ron mimicked Ginny in a high pitched voice.

"It's none of your business how I feel about Harry, you sodding weasel!" Ginny screamed

"Actually, it is," Ron snapped. "Harry is my best friend, and you're ruining everything by hanging around acting like a girl!"

"I am a girl, you dimwit!" Ginny cried.

"Yeah, well, you're embarrassing me!"

"Well, seeing as I'm such an embarrassment to this stupid family, MAYBE you should all just leave me alone!" Ginny screamed and with that she shoved Ron hard out the door, slamming and locking it behind him.

Now he felt burning guilt at the memory of this encounter. So Ginny had a crush Harry. Why had he made such a federal case about it? It was just so stupid, how she acted all shy around Harry. Harry never saw the real Ginny, the feisty, funny, sarcastic girl who had pretty much been Ron's best friend when they were younger. It made him mad to see Ginny act so different around Harry; it was like his sister was disappearing before his eyes, developing into a squealy, giggly girl like Parvati or Lavender. He had just wanted the old Ginny back.

His eyed burned with tears. Maybe if he had paid more attention to Ginny, he could have prevented what happened…he remembered when he and Ginny had the argument in the Common room….

***  
Ron had just beaten Hermione in chess, which meant Hermione had to do her mandatory, "I will beat you someday, don't give me that look, Ron Weasley, well if you're so smart, you can take your own notes from now on" speech. As Hermione went to check the grammar on her potions essay for the ten millionth time, Ron saw Ginny sitting on the couch, writing in her diary again. Ron went over to her.

"Hi."

Ginny gasped and slammed her diary shut, looking like a scared rabbit.

"What's the matter?"

"N-Nothing," Ginny said, scooting away from Ron.

Ron raised his eyebrows at Ginny. She looked pale and frightened and… tired.

"Are you still upset about Colin and Justin?" he asked.

"Erm…yes." Ginny said.

"Seriously, Ginny, it'll be all right. They're gonna get cured."

"Someone might die," Ginny said quietly.

"Rubbish. You're getting way too hysterical over this, Ginny. You never used to be scared."

"Are you saying you're not scared?"

"Well, yeah, everyone is. I'm scared for…Hermione actually, but not for me. We're purebloods, remember?"

"I know," Ginny said softly.

"Listen. No one's dead, not even the cat. You never used to scare so easily," Ron hesitated. "I…I miss the old Ginny."

"Maybe the old Ginny's gone," she said fiercely. "Maybe the old Ginny's dead."

Ron was losing patience. "Listen, I'm tired of this crap. They are going to catch the sick nutter who did this and expel them. Or chuck them in Azkaban, probably. To rot."

"And what do YOU know about it, RON?" Ginny screamed suddenly, going white.

"Ginny!" Ron cried, shocked at this outburst.

"Just leave me alone!" she sputtered, turning away from him, her shoulders shaking. "I don't need your help."

"Fine with me! You're mad!" Ron shouted. "I HATE the new Ginny!"

And with that, Ron stormed off, nearly crashing into Hermione, who had her

severest, most Hermione-ish look on.

"Honestly, Ron, can't you see she's upset? You're so insensitive!" Hermione snapped.

"Did you just see her? She went mental on me! I was just talking to her."

"She's scared, Ron. It's not a crime." And with that, Hermione swept off and put her arm around Ginny, who started sobbing into her shoulder. Ron stormed up the stairs, fuming.  
Girls, he thought. Bloody mental.

***

It seemed so obvious to him now… that something had been wrong, that Ginny had known something about the Chamber, that that was why she had been so scared. That conversation this morning, at breakfast… it all made sense. If he was a good big brother, he would have noticed. He would have helped her. But he didn't. He had failed Ginny. It was his fault.

"She… knew something, Harry," he said. His voice sounded strange and croaky and far away. After so many hours of staring into his lap, torturing himself, he finally looked up at Harry with bleary eyes. His friend looked back at him sadly.

"That's why she was taken. It wasn't some stupid thing about Percy after all, She'd found out something about the Chamber of Secrets. That must be why she was…" realizing tears were escaping again, he rubbed his eyes frantically. "I mean, she was a pureblood. There can't be any other reason."

Ron realized he that he was describing Ginny as a "was". Past tense. Finished. Dead. But something inside him wouldn't let Ginny die. Ginny was a fighter. She always had been. Maybe whatever took her…she hadn't let it finish her yet. Sure, she had different this year, but she was still…Ginny. And Ginny never said die. And neither would he. His fists clenched in determination.

"Harry," he heard the strange voice say. "D'you think there's a chance at all she's not-you know-…"

Harry bit his lip. Ron knew he couldn't see the hope. But Harry never got to know Ginny…didn't know what a fighter she was… "_And he never will." _ A nasty voice in his head interrupted.

No, Ron shot back. No, hope was not lost. Not if he had anything to say about it.

"D'you know what?" He said, his voice getting stronger. "I think we should go and see Lockhart. Tell him what we know. He's going to try and get into the Chamber. We can tell him where we think it is, and tell him it's a basilisk in there."

Harry looked at him for a second. Ron waited, on tenterhooks. Then, finally, Harry nodded and Ron saw the tiniest, tiniest ray of hope. He pushed himself out of his seat.

They were going to save Ginny.


	2. What about Hermione Granger?

_A/N: Another one I wrote when I was fourteen, heavily edited to be much better today. I love Hermione so much. I love how she's a total geek, yet still completely cool. And I love how she's more interested in books than looks. A lot of my feelings about growing up as a geek girl went into this as I wrote it. I'd like the thank JKR for making such an inspirational heroine, cool but flawed, that I, even as a young girl, was able to look up to and relate to. Also, so much love for Ron and Hermione's torrid romance. :)_

**What about Hermione Granger?**

Hermione Granger stormed up to her room, fuming. She slammed the door dramatically even though she knew Ron couldn't hear it from down in the common room. Stalking across the room, she snarled and spat. _Ron. _Assuming she was available, assuming nobody asked her, acting like he was doing her a favor, offering to take her as a last resort. He acted like nobody in their right mind would have asked her to the ball! Like, like she was some ugly hag that no one could possibly be attracted to! Well, she may not be as pretty as that stupid Fleur, or Parvati or Lavender, but…

She sighed and flopped on the bed, looking at the small mirror attached to the wall. Looking back at her was a girl with a plain face, mud brown eyes and masses of tangled bushy brown hair. She didn't have much of a figure. Ron was right. She was plainer than any Jane and it was a bit of a miracle Viktor had asked her out. Granted, he was no looker himself, but he had all those much prettier girls always vying for his attention. But then, they were dunderheads, and she supposed they annoyed Viktor. Unlike _Ron, _he clearly didn't just focus on whether a girl's nose was dead perfect, or if care whether she was an ethereal beauty like _Fleur…_she quite liked that about Viktor.

After all, it was true that unlike Lavender and Parvati, she didn't spend hours getting her hair and face just right or gossiping and giggling about boys and that sort of thing. No, she spent most of her time with her nose in a book, studying and hanging around her two best friends…who were boys. She never spent time on her appearance, preferring to read and do homework and solve mysteries with Harry and Ron.

That was all right, she supposed, but it made Ron think she was just one of the guys… She had no idea why this disturbed her so much, the fact Ron only thought of her as a mate, and was using her as a safety net.

She was just one of the gang, the terrible trio…He hadn't even noticed her teeth were smaller. Oh, and Harry hadn't either. She supposed it was _nice _that they didn't pay that much attention to her flaws, but _still_…

It was true that she had been surprised when Viktor Krum had asked her to the ball. Not because she barely knew him, but because she hadn't been expecting anyone to ask her to the ball, nor had she been planning to ask anyone. But, it had made her feel special….for once in her life. And Viktor seemed to really like her, so she'd said yes. _He'd_ noticed she was a girl. She usually didn't mind that she just wasn't naturally very…well, people's idea of what "feminine" should be. Except at times like this, when things got all confused and she longed for something.

Sighing, she got out of bed, stretching slightly. After a few moments thought she dropped to her knees and pulled out her trunk. She opened it and started rooting around in it. After shifting a load of books and quills, she finally found her floaty blue dress robes and pulled them out. She hadn't looked at them since Mrs. Weasley had given them to her after buying them for her in Diagon Alley .

She held them against herself and looked critically in the mirror. Then, without further hesitation, she jerked them roughly over her head.

Flushed, she looked at her reflection. She couldn't help but give a tiny gasp. The fabric of the dress robes was floaty and glittery and seemed to…ripple. The robes fit naturally, hanging down and accentuating her (admittedly minimal) curves and floating cloudlike around her ankles.

"I look…pretty," she murmured. She ran her fingers through her hair, only to get them caught in a tangle. Scowling, she yanked them out again.

Of course, she still wasn't exactly a beauty queen with her tangled mass of brown hair, like a Yield sign on her head, her plain, scrubbed face and the trainers peaking out under the robes.

Maybe she would take care of her hair and…doll up a bit. Just for the Ball. She could show them all she was a girl. That she could be pretty if she felt like it, but she simply didn't see a reason to bother. Show them a different side of Hermione Granger.

Hermione smiled into the mirror. Yes. She would show _him._

***

The night before the Yule Ball, Harry, Ron, Fred and George got into a snowball fight. She didn't join in, as she didn't want to make the work harder for when she got ready for the ball. Getting all flushed and sweaty and snow covered would only mean she'd have to spend even more time fixing herself up.

Harry and Ron were surprised when she left to get ready three hours early. She didn't answer Ron when he asked her for the thousandth time who she was going with and made her way up the stairs, down the hall, into the Common Room and up to her empty doors. She stood there for a few seconds, as if steeling herself. Then she got to work.

First she took a shower and then, wearing a dressing gown, took out the Sleekeazy's Hair Potion she had borrowed from Lavender. She read the directions, which said to comb and dry her hair before applying.

Grimacing, she dragged her hairbrush through her locks, wincing in pain occasionally. Then she dried her hair with a spell she had learned in first year that make steam come out of her wand. Finally she applied the hair potion.

Liberous amounts of it were required, and she had to rub and comb very hard in order to tame each wave, tangle and curl. It took ages. This would not be something she'd want to do every day, not when she could be reading or something else.

After she was finished she looked up to the mirror and once again, gasped. Her hair was straight! Not to mention sleek and shiny and flowing. For once it did what it was supposed to and stayed placidly in place! The color of her hair even looked prettier, she had always considered it to be dung colored, but now she realized it was a dark chestnut brown. She shook it, enjoying how it bounced and flowed. It fell a bit past her shoulders now, when it was bushy it usually barely brushed them.

She marveled at it for many minutes before remembering she had more to do. She reached in her trunk and produced a lipstick and mascara and other cosmetics (also borrowed from Parvati and Lavender) She applied the lipstick carefully to her mouth. It was thick and chalky and she felt extra conscious of her lips. It was the same with the other makeup. It took ages also, applying it, though she supposed if she'd practiced earlier on, she'd have been quicker.

She closed her eyes and whispered "_Rectify_", waving her wand across her face. It was a little spell she looked up. It would make her makeup look more natural and clear up any smudges and mistakes, if done right. When she opened her eyes, she gaped at the person she saw in the mirror. This person was pretty- beautiful even, with dark eyelashes and red lips and…and…

She shook herself out of her trance. She still had to get on her robes and shoes and put her hair up. The hair was easy enough, with magic.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" She whispered and a hair tie and pins levitated next to her head. She left them floating there.

"Unerum Fornaught!" she said firmly, waving her wand in a complicated motion. Her hair twisted into an elegant bun and the pins and tie dived in to hold it in place.

Quickly Hermione undid her dressing gown and pulled on her dress robes carefully, so not to mess up anything. Then she put on open toed clunky black sandals. Just as she stood up, she heard the sounds of students entering the Common Room. Ducking her head down and covering herself carefully with a black cloak she swept out of the girls dormitories and through the crowd and out the portrait hole. She didn't know why, but she didn't want anyone to see her just yet. Perhaps she wanted to surprise them? A bit silly…

She hurried to the Entrance Hall. No one was there yet. Checking her watch, she saw it was 45 minutes to the ball. Hermione sat down and took a book out from the voluminous pocket of the cloak she'd set on the floor and decided she'd read until people showed up.

Eventually, students washed into the room and Hermione put the book away and went outside, looking for Viktor. He came with the other Durmstrang students, wearing dark red dress robes. She waved at him and he made a beeline for her.

"You look very pretty," he told her solemnly. "Though I am thinking you alvays look pretty."

Hermione blushed and looked away. "Oh…well…thanks. You look quite nice yourself."

"Thank you, Hermy-own."

"Hermione," she corrected automatically. He took her arm (she flushed at this) and together, they entered the Entrance Hall.

She looked around and spotted Harry and Ron, Harry looking extremely nervous and out of place, wearing green dress robes and Ron looking disgruntled, wearing his maroon dress robes. It looked as if he had done a severing charm to get rid of the lace, though not a very good one, the edges of his robes were hopelessly frayed. She shook her head. She would have done it for him if he'd asked her!

Harry was standing with Parvati, who didn't look nervous in the least and was quite beautiful in pink robes with gold braided into her dark hair. Her twin, Padma, looked identical; except her robes were turquoise and she had longer hair. She was with Ron, looking very depressed that he was her partner. Hermione didn't see why, despite the frayed robes, he looked quite handsome.

Harry glanced at her, but didn't seem to recognize her; Ron was hiding behind him now. Hermione looked around. It was Fleur he was glancing at with pure terror. She was stalking haughtily along with Roger Davies drooling beside her. Hermione bit her lip to keep from giggling, though she licked her teeth afterwards, hoping she hadn't smeared her lipstick.

Suddenly, Professor McGonagall called, "Champions, over here, please!"

Hermione and Viktor headed toward Professor McGonagall, along with the other champions and their dates, including Harry and Parvati.

"You are to wait here while everyone else enters the Great Hall, then, enter in a procession after the rest of the students have seated themselves," McGonagall said sternly. They all formed a line on the wall, Hermione smiled nervously. Viktor put his hand in hers. She looked around and saw Harry staring wistfully at Cedric and Cho. Then he looked away and his eyes fell on her. He blinked, and suddenly seemed to recognize her. His jaw dropped.

"Hi Harry!" she said. "Hi Parvati," she said to Harry's date.

When Hermione said this, Harry quickly closed his mouth, waved a little awkwardly at her and said "Hi."

Parvati just stared at her as if she'd sprouted two heads. It wasn't very flattering, but Hermione didn't mind. The ridiculous girls who stalked Krum scowled at her as they passed and after them. Malfoy and that cow Pansy Parkinson (who was in ridiculously frilly pink robes_) followed. Pansy gaped at her; Hermione felt an insane urge to stick her tongue out but instead smiled sweetly at both her and Malfoy, giving them a sarcastic little wave. Malfoy was speechless, for once. Ron, however, didn't even look at her. Hermione supposed he hadn't recognized her yet, and felt oddly disappointed about this.

When all the students had dispersed, the champions and their dated lined up in pairs and entered the Hall to applause. In front of her, Harry concentrated on his feet. Hermione almost had another giggle fit, knowing he was trying not to trip. He looked almost as nervous now as he had before fighting the dragons.

Both Fleur and Parvati were in their element, beaming at everyone and dragging their dates forcefully around, Davies didn't seem to mind, but Harry looked quite bewildered. The boys stared at Fleur as she flipped her hair and Hermione snorted. She couldn't stand girls like Fleur, so preoccupied with shallow things and full of themselves.

Viktor stumbled beside her. As always, he seemed very awkward without a broomstick under him. So she led him along too, though she was nervous herself. Cedric looked slightly nervous, but mostly happy. Cho gazed at him, smiling, walking along easily. They seemed to really like each other. Hermione felt sorry for Harry, who she knew had a tremendous crush on Cho.

Ron was glaring at someone in her general direction; Hermione didn't know who it could be. He still wasn't giving any sign he recognized her. She drooped slightly at this. What was his problem? He was ignoring Padma, who looked miffed. Hermione felt a strange satisfaction at this.

Karkaroff, she noticed, was glaring as well, and it was definitely at her. He probably didn't think she was good enough for Krum.

_Nobody does,_ Hermione thought forlornly.

_Except Viktor himself,_ another voice in her head said stubbornly. This thought cheered her up.

They sat down at the top table, Hermione and Viktor a few places away from Harry and Parvati, who had been beckoned by Percy Weasley. Hermione had no idea why he was here, but listening slightly, heard he was in Mr. Crouch's place and very smug about it.

"These are vonderful decorations," Krum said after they had ordered their food.

"They are quite nice," Hermione said. "Do you have decorations at your castle during holidays too?"

"Vell, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking. Ve have just four floors and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds even larger than these, though in the vinter ve haff very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in the summer, ve are flying almost every day, over the lakes and mountains-"

"Now, now, Viktor!" Karkaroff laughed coldly, intruding on their conversation. "Don't go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!"

As he engaged in a discussion with Dumbledore about secrecy, Hermione glared at the man. How rude he was. She still hadn't forgotten Sirius's warning about him!

"I am thinking you are smart enough to guess where we are located," Viktor said in a low voice.

Hermione blushed, "Well, I read all about Durmstrang in-" she caught Karkaroff listening and gulped, "a-a book, but I-I don't know where it is…."

She smiled still more nervously.

"Do you have any friends in Durmstrang?"

"Vell, not very many. They are nice to me, but I believe they may just do thees because I am being on the Quidditch team, if you know vat I mean. I see you a lot with Potter and the red headed boy, Hermy-own. They are your friends?"

"Yes," Hermione said, nodding. "They're my best friends. The red haired boy is Ron Weasley."

"How long haff you been friends?"

"Since first year, when they rescued me from a troll," Hermione explained.

"They rescued you from a troll, Hermy own?"

"Hermione," Hermione said.

"Herm-ee-own-ee?"

"_Hermione_," she corrected him, fighting the urge to laugh.

"Hermy-own?"

"Her-my-own-nee," she said, slowly and clearly.

"Herm-own-ninny."

"Close enough," she said cheerfully. She caught Harry's eye and grinned.

Soon they finished their food and Dumbledore asked them to stand up. With a flick of his wand, the tables they had been eating at zoomed against the wall and a raised platform appeared complete with instruments. The Weird Sisters entered. Hermione knew they were very popular. She had read about them and seen their picture in _A History of Music in the Wizarding World_, but was still amused at how much they looked like a Muggle rock band. She stood up slowly and Viktor took her arm.

Beside her, Harry tripped over his own robes while Parvati scowled and Roger Davies stared dreamily at Fleur. The song was a slow one and Hermione nervously put her hand on Krum's shoulder. But as they danced, Hermione found it was easy to move slowly along with Viktor and just listen to the music. She liked dancing…and the Weird Sisters were a good band, really….soon other people joined the champions on the dance floor.

Hermione allowed her eyes to stray over the dance floor. Parvati was steering Harry around, he looked almost comically uncomfortable. Fred and Angelina were dancing very enthusiastically, poor Ginny was getting her feet stamped on by Neville…. Soon the song struck an end and almost everyone applauded, including Hermione. They struck up a much faster song and Hermione pulled away from Viktor and began to dance more freely. It was quite fun, she experienced a rush of energy as she danced. In fact, she danced three more songs before Viktor suggested getting drinks. She did feel quite thirsty.

"I'll be by Harry and Ron over there," Hermione said, pointing to her two friends at the table. "You can meet them…well, you've sort of already met Harry, but not Ron…"

Viktor nodded and disappeared in into the crowd. Hermione went to join her two friends. Parvati was no longer with Harry. Hermione could see she was at the other end of the Hall, dancing with a boy from Beauxbatons. She'd probably gotten fed up with Harry staring wistfully at Cedric and Cho. Padma was by Ron, looking very annoyed.

Hermione sat in an empty chair beside Harry who greeted her. Ron did not.

"It's hot, isn't it?" she was felling rather flushed. "Viktor's just gone to get drinks."

"Viktor?" Ron said, glaring at her. "Hasn't he asked you to call him _Vicky_ yet?"

Hermione looked at him, startled by his tone of voice. "What's up with you?"

"If you don't know," Ron said snottily, "I'm not going to tell you."

Hermione stared at him, and then Harry, who shrugged his shoulders, still staring at Cedric and Cho.

"Ron, what-?"

"He's from Durmstrang!" Ron spat. "He's competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You're-you're _fraternizing with the enemy,_ that's what you're doing!"

Hermione stared at Ron in shock. What was he playing at? He loved Krum! Why was he saying such…idiotic things?! She had to wait a moment before she was able to form words. Harry was watching in mild surprise now.

"Don't be so stupid! The _enemy!_" She felt anger flow through her at the injustice and hypocrisy at what Ron was saying.

"Honestly, who was the one who was all excited when they saw him arrive? Who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who's got a model of them up in their dormitory?"

Apparently, these words rung too true for Ron to think of a response. "I s'pose he asked you to come when you were both in the library?"

"Yes, he did," Hermione said angrily. "So what?"

"What happened-trying to get him to join _spew_, were you?"

She bit back a desire to correct him about the name and focused on the matter at hand.

"No, I wasn't! If you _really_ want to know-" She'd show him! "He-he said he'd been coming up to the library every day to try and talk to me, but he hadn't been able to pluck up the courage!" She blushed deeply as she said this, for it was very personal information.

"Yeah, well, that's his story," Ron said venomously.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Obvious, isn't it? He's Karkaroff's student, isn't he? He knows who you hang around with…He's trying to get closer to Harry- get inside information on him-or get near enough to jinx him-"

Hermione felt her whole body go stiff and cold. Even after all her hard work, Ron still didn't think she was pretty enough for someone to like her! Couldn't anyone accept someone might like her for who she was? Why did everyone think she wasn't good enough?

She felt her voice tremble as she said "For your information, he hasn't asked me _one single thing_ about Harry, not one-"

"Then he's hoping you'll help him find out what his egg means! I suppose you've been putting your heads together during those cozy little library sessions-"

"I'd _never_ help him work out that egg!" Hermione said, hurt deeply by the implication. She'd just met Viktor and Harry had been her friend for years! " _Never._ How could you say something like that-I want Harry to win the tournament, Harry knows that, don't you, Harry?"

Harry opened his mouth slightly, but Ron interrupted.

"You've got a funny way of showing it."

This was so ridiculous!

"This whole tournaments about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them!"

"No it isn't!" Ron declared. "It's about winning!"

"Ron," Harry intervened finally, "I haven't got a problem with Hermione coming with Krum-"

Ron, of course, ignored him.

"Why don't you go and find Vicky, he'll be wondering where you are!"

Hermione snapped.

"_Don't call him Vicky!_" She shouted, bounding up from her seat. She whirled around, her leg banging painfully into her chair and stalked away, her blood boiling.

That idiot! She was feeling pretty and sophisticated _for once in her life! _ She'd been having a good time and he had to go and ruin her night! She found a table and sat down at it huffily. A few minutes later Viktor came over, carrying drinks.

"Vy vere'nt you sitting vith your friends, Herm-own-ninny?" He asked.

"Oh, Ron's in a 'mood'," Hermione grumbled. She scrutinized Viktor carefully. Perhaps, she thought, feeling sick at the thought of it, there was some truth in what Ron said? Maybe he really was using her to get to Harry. Hadn't she thought it a miracle, that he asked her out? But…he hadn't asked her anything about Harry…or the egg.

"Oh. I see," Viktor said darkly.

"What, was he rude to you?" Hermione asked

'A leetle. I am thinking he is jealous." Viktor shrugged.

"Ron? Jealous?" Why in the world would Ron be jealous? Unless…..no.

"I'm sorry he was rude to you, Viktor. He's not usually like that," she said consolingly. "He's actually a huge fan of yours. He was gaga over you at the World Cup, and when you came to this school."

Viktor shrugged again. "Eeet is fine."

He sat down and handed a butterbeer to Hermione.

"Look, Viktor," she said suddenly. "I have to know. Why did you ask me out? All those other girls- prettier girls- would have given anything to go out with you. But you chose me."

She waited with baited breath, while he stared at her, his dark eyes somber.

"Ven I came into the school, I saw you were disdainful of those vanting autographs for me. It is very rarely I meet someone who I am sure vill not just like me because I am famous. Thees is ven I first thought you might be one of those rare people. And ven I heard you in the library talking to Potter-

Hermione's heart sank. Oh no, Ron was right. It WAS all about Harry!

"- telling him you did not care about my Wronski Feint, I knew I vas right." Viktor finished. Hermione flushed in relief.

"Not only that, I saw you helping people in the library often- Potter, that red headed boy, and that boy with the toad…many people came to you for help with their vork. And you vere alvays very kind to them, helping them, and it vas clear you vere intelligent and…how do you say? Filled with passion. I am very…admiring of this. You are kind, you do not see my fame, and you are very clever. I have never seen anyone so…different. It is a nice change."

Hermione felt her face go, if possible, even redder at this.

"Also, I think you are very good looking. Your eyes are nice color and your hair is very interesting, how curly it is. Though it is nice right now, too," he said diplomatically.

"Oh, stop…" Hermione muttered. She'd never been complimented like this before. "I…I think you're very nice…and intelligent as well," she offered, feeling she should return his compliments. He grinned.

They chatted until their butterbeer was finished and then got up to dance again. The rest of the night passed in a whirl. She had fun dancing, but not nearly as much fun as before. Her fight with Ron had ruined her good mood, despite Viktor's comforting words.

At midnight the Weird Sisters finished playing and everyone applauded. Hermione made her way into the entrance hall with Viktor.

The hall was very crowded. Hermione saw a lot of dates kissing each other goodbye. This made her very nervous. She didn't want to kiss Viktor in front of all these people…especially Ron, who she saw standing sulkily by Harry out of the corner of her eye.

"Well, it's been a fun night," Hermione said awkwardly. "I had a good time."

Viktor clasped Hermione's hands. "I enjoyed being vith you very much, Herm-own-ninny."

"Thank you," she said, smiling. "I enjoyed being with you also. So, I'll see you around?"

Viktor looked her in the eyes. Hermione felt very nervous now. Finally he let go of her hand and nodded stoically.

"Yes, Herm-own ninny. I vill…see you around."

Hermione smiled at him once more and walked off. She passed Ron and Harry, glaring coldly at Ron. She trudged up the staircase and had just given the Fat Lady the password when Ron caught up with her. He gave a scathing look and dashed by her to clamber inside the common room. She followed, and grabbed his arm before he could go up to his dormitory, eager to read him the riot act. He spun around to face her.

"I can not _believe _how you acted!" Hermione burst out angrily. "You were rude to me, you were rude to Viktor…"

"Oh, did I hurt darling Vicky's feelings?" Ron sneered.

"Shut up!" Hermione snapped.

"I didn't do anything wrong!" Ron shouted back at her. "You, going out with _that_- letting him lead you on just because he tells you what you want to hear! Betraying Harry and me! Dating whoever'll take you!"

The accusation was so ridiculous that Hermione had to take a deep breath before replying. "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard! It's obvious that's not what's going on!"

"No, what's obvious is that you're falling for Krum's bull!"

"Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?" Hermione screamed as Harry entered the common room.

"Oh yeah?" Ron yelled. "What?"

"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does and not as a last resort!"

Hermione turned and stormed up the girls staircase, fuming. How stupid could Ron get? Couldn't he see what his own feelings were? Or was she totally off the mark? Was she just being hopeful?

Hermione slammed the door of the girl's dormitory behind her and looked in the mirror. Her face was flushed, eyes snapping and her hair was becoming undone. Furiously she pulled the bun out. The girl in the mirror wasn't her. She wiped off the makeup and pulled on a nightgown. It had been fun to shock everyone and it was fun to dress up for special occasions, but this wasn't the way she looked, it wasn't the way she was. It wasn't Hermione Granger at all. She flopped into bed and looked in the mirror one last time, her sleek hair falling in a cloud around her shoulders.

Tomorrow it would be bushy again. And you know what? She was just fine with that.


	3. Deluminated

**Deluminated**

Ron stumbled upon Apparating, falling and banging his knee. Swearing, he managed to pull himself up, slowly acclimating to his surroundings. He appeared to be in the corner of a dark alley. He could hear the lots of noise from the street a few feet away, it was busy. Where was he? What place had he been thinking when he Apparated? He could not think straight. His head pounded and ached and the rage he had felt so acutely in the tent with Harry and Hermione was still boiling inside him.

He kicked the wall angrily. Served them right…given them a piece of his mind…stuck on this pointless camping trip, tired and hungry and injured…they didn't have families in danger…didn't know what it was like…the way Harry had mocked him when he'd finally snapped and told them what for…and Hermione had proven who she liked best when it came down to it, hadn't she…she had chosen Harry's side…abandoned him…but he had been the one who'd left her, even as she begged him to stay…the way she'd looked at him…pleading…

The feeling seemed to go out of Ron's legs and he slid to the ground, his head in his hands. The slights against him that had seemed so major back in the tent suddenly seemed so small and insignificant in this secluded dark alley, absent from Harry and Hermione's glaring countenances.

They hadn't just glared, though. When Ron had first announced his grievances, Harry had, just for a few seconds, gotten this horriblel, hurt look on his face. It was as if Ron had slapped him, as if his worse fears had been confirmed. It was not, after all, Harry's fault that Dumbledore had left them jack to go on. Harry had not wanted Ron and Hermione to come with him in the first place. Ron had insisted on coming to support his best friend in his dangerous journey and now he had just told off Harry because the journey had been going a little slowly lately…

And Hermione…she had called out to him, cried, pleaded with him…sure, she had stayed with Harry, but she was a good friend after all, not the type to abandon her mate when he needed her…and Harry definitely needed her, he would get himself bloody killed without Hermione's brains to back him up…

He had made her cry…he hated it when that happened…and he did it so often…

It was all so clear now, that he had been out of line…why had he not been able to see these things back at the tent? It was as if something had been squeezing…no, _strangling _his brain and now he had been released and could think clearly and breathe freely once more…

Strangling…Ron's hand jumped to his neck suddenly, but the Horcrux was no longer hanging there; he had taken it off when Harry had demanded. That was it! That effing locket, that nasty little piece of Voldemort's putrid, maimed soul! It had poisoned him, made him say those things, made him hurt Harry and Hermione...

Well, not exactly. He'd had those thoughts before. The Horcrux had just sort of…amplified them. It had seemed to bring all the bad feelings he usually was able to keep buried and restrain himself from admitting to bubbling to the surface…made it so he voiced them…made it so he wanted to leave…

Well, right then. There was nothing for it. He'd have to go back. He wouldn't apologize or anything though. Well, maybe he'd say sorry for leaving. And some of the harsher stuff he'd said. But some of it had been true, hadn't it? He'd been sort of right. He just shouldn't have put it that way, really. And he could bargain to wear the Horcrux less often, maybe that would fix things a little. The other two didn't seem to be as…well…susceptible to it as he was.

He couldn't Apparate in this stupid alley though, there was barely room to spin and he wasn't that fantastic at Apparating to begin with. He needed a more open space.

He got up, hoisting up his rucksack. He moved out of the tiny little alley, into the main street.

He gasped. He recognized this place from a year ago, when he, Harry and Hermione had followed Malfoy down its dismal winding road. Knockturn Alley. Why the hell had he Apparated here? Had his dark mood made him drawn to this dark place? Or had it been the Horcrux's influence? Harry had told him Voldemort had worked in Knockturn Alley once. Had that damned bit of soul so affected Ron that he now shared its master's affinity for this haven for Dark Wizards?

Ron shivered at the thought as dodgy looking people rushed past him. The alley may have been nearly deserted last year, but now it was packed. Dark Wizards were free to go about their business with the Ministry under Voldemort's thrall….

Ron wanted to get out and back to the campsite more now than ever before, so he closed his eyes and began to turn…

A strong hand clamped down on his arm and Ron's eyes snapped open. Coming from nowhere, a grungy looking man with stringy brown hair had suddenly grabbed on to him. He was leering. Standing behind him were a muscled black man and spotty blonde bloke. Two more men were at Ron's other side. One of them was a huge guy with skin that seemed almost gray, and he smelled disgusting, like a toilet. The other was scrawny and pale with beady eyes.

"Now what's a young bloke like you doin' round here?" snarled the man holding Ron, his mouth forming a twisted smile. "You look Hogwarts age. Why aren' you at school, ginger? Afraid o' bein' spotted as a Mudblood?"

"I…I…" Ron could not quite form words; he was so shocked by the sudden attack. "I… it's none of your business …"

"None o' our bidness?" cackled the ring leader. "It certainly is our bidness! We're doin' noble work for the Ministry, turning in Mudbloods like you! Gives us a nice little bit of money too…an' I think we hit the jackpot here, boys!"

"No…" said Ron wildly and he reached for his wand, but the big gray man grabbed his other arm, nearly crushing it. His beady eyed companion plucked Ron's wand out of his pocket. Suddenly Ron felt pressure on all sides; a horrible compressing darkness seemed to envelope him. The men were forcing him to Apparate with them. He struggled, but it was useless, they were far too strong.

Suddenly he was able to breathe again, but the air was musty and smelly. He was in a dank, mildewed shack. His captor threw him to the ground, hard. His rucksack flew out of his hand as he hit the ground. He tried to jump up and attempt to escape, but the grubby bloke grabbed him by his hair, dragging him up. He then grabbed both his arms so hard Ron could feel them bruising. He tried to kick the man, but that just caused one of the other blokes to hit him in the face.

"Ain't a very smart Mudblood, hangin' round these parts," the grungy looking guy chuckled, bobbing in front of Ron.

"I'm not a...a Muggleborn, okay? I'm pureblood!" Ron shouted, spitting out a bit of that blood as if to prove it.

"Why are you not in Hogwarts then?" scoffed the big black man.

"Because I'm of age, you lunatic! I graduated!" Ron lied desperately.

The group chortled.

"Graduated, huh? We'll see about that!" said the spotty blonde man, pulling out a sheet of paper. "Woss your name?

Ron needed a name, a name that was on that list…one name came readily to his lips, perhaps because the person it belonged to shared the hair color and skin condition of the assailant in front of him. "I'm Stan. Stan Shunpike. And you'd better let go of me, or there'll be trouble."

The man's eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "Shunpike? I thought he woss in Azkaban?"

"They let me out, you moron!" Ron growled. It was true it had been reported in the Prophet shortly before Harry, Ron and Hermione had left Grimmauld place that Shunpike and several other Death Eaters and dupes had been released from Azkaban because they had been found "innocent." In truth, of course, they'd been broken out much earlier.

"Don't you insult me!" the blonde bloke growled, and he hit Ron hard across the face. Ron tasted blood again.

"I think that's true, though, they did," said the grubby bloke holding Ron thoughtfully.

"But he looks school-age!" protested the pale man.

"I'm twenty one!" Ron shouted, estimating Stan's age. It looked hopeless. The man holding him had a viselike grip upon his arms, and he was wandless and badly outnumbered. Would he be turned over to the Death Eaters? Would he die and never see Harry and Hermione again, never be able to tell them how sorry he was? Would they forever think him a lousy traitor who was stupid enough to get caught and killed his first minute away from them?

"Shunpike…I heard Shunpike was supposed to be with…_them,_" said the man holding Ron. Ron knew _them _meant the Death Eaters, and could tell his captor was scared he had actually just ticked off a friend of Voldemort's.

"I am," Ron snapped, seizing onto this. "So you'd better…"

"My brother was a friend of Shunpike's," said the black man thoughtfully, interrupting Ron's threats. "He always was makin' fun of Stan's pimples when he talked about him. This kid don't have no pimples."

Oh, God. This was it. His stupid lie had failed, and he was going to die here in this damp, disgusting shack. No one would know how or why…especially his friends. Hermione's face flashed across his mind, and he thought achingly of her.

"You sure it weren't freckles?" the huge gray man grunted, to his astonishment. It was surprising to hear the man could talk. He so powerfully resembled a troll Ron had expected him to speak in grunts. "This kid's got freckles. Could have got those mixed up."

"Nah, it was pimples. Stan had 'em all over, just like Ralph here does."

"What's that s'posed to mean?" snarled the blonde, spotty guy.

This was getting pretty pathetic, to be honest, Ron thought as he listened to the blokes begin a loud argument. A lengthy one too, it seemed to go on for a good half hour…If he had a wand, Ron was sure he could beat all of these guys in a duel, they were so stupid. But here he was, defenseless, at their mercy. What an idiotic situation.

"…You know you look like you got spattergroit, Ralph, don' take it out on me. I say this ain't Stan!" the black guy shouted for the trillionth time

"Well I say it is!" snarled Ralph, marching up to huge black man. "And I'm a damn sight better looking than you, Lou, and I don' sweat like no pig!

Lou roared. "Take that back!"

"I won't!" yelled Ralph, drawing his wand, but Lou grabbed it and snapped it in two. Howling with fury now, Ralph launched himself at Lou, and soon they were rolling on the ground punching each other. The troll man looked delighted at this show of violence, and the man holding Ron's wand gaped, his beady eyes as round as they could go.

The man holding Ron loosened his viselike grip slightly, yelling "Come on, you two! Cut it out, for God's sake!"

Ron took his chance. Wrenching his arm from his grungy captor's grip, he sank his elbow deep into the man's gut. The thug doubled over, gasping and clutching his stomach. Ron grabbed the man's wand, and shouted "Expelliarmus!" His own wand was blasted out of the hand of its captor, the pale man who was still watching Ralph and Lou fight. Ron caught his wand, and before the pale man had time to say more than "Hey-!" he had grabbed his rucksack, turned on the spot clumsily and Disapparated.

Determination and deliberation he felt in spades, but he had acted too quickly to give too much thought to his destination. He was already in the compressing darkness when he remembered the camping spot, and he was off balance to begin with. So he wasn't too surprised when he landed in a spot that was clearly tent free, and probably miles from where Harry and Hermione were.

But he wasn't able to worry about that for long. Immediately, he felt a horrible, searing pain in his right hand. He looked down to see that two of his fingers were covered in blood. A few seconds of staring and he realized why: his fingernails were missing. Feeling faintly sick, he wrapped his shirt around his fingers, turning it red with blood.

"Owshitow," he muttered, hopping in pain a little as he stumbled up. He was definitely on the countryside, probably about miles away from the campsite. The trouble was, he didn't know exactly where that was. Hermione, after all, had been the one to lead them there. He just needed to visualize it, though….

He wasn't so keen on trying Apparition again so soon after Splinching himself, but what choice did he have?

He tore off a bit of his shirt and tied up his wounded fingers, staunching the blood flow. He didn't want to try repairing them by magic in case he messed it up. Besides, hopefully when he found Harry and Hermione they'd lend him some Dittany.

Putting the two wands he now possessed into his pocket, he visualized the campsite, and with as much determination and deliberation as he could muster, turned on the spot.

It was not an easy journey. Ron couldn't seem to quite visualize the riverbank right. He kept popping up in different places. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he Apparate right? It just came so easily to Harry and Hermione…

Finally, he managed to turn up somewhere he reckoned was close to the bit of riverbank where they'd been camping. And so he began his tedious search for the exact spot they had been camping, painstakingly combing up and down the river, his hand and head aching, but determined to find his friends and make things right.

Suddenly, he heard a faint pop in the distance. Panic gripped him. He ran hard and fast through the tangled countryside, but it was too late, too late, Harry and Hermione had already Disapparated. Their tent, their belongings, everything was gone from the place Ron now knew was the spot they had been camping.

Ron couldn't believe it. All the struggle to get back here, and he had been too late. His own stupidity and clumsiness had delayed him for so long that Harry and Hermione had left without him, and there was no way to follow them. They had left, believing him to have abandoned him, believing he had walked away without looking back.

He fell to his knees in the grass, and he was ashamed to feel his eyes prickling and burning. He may never see his friends again and they may never forgive him…

He didn't know how long he sat there, on his knees in the cold wet grass, hoping impossibly that Harry and Hermione would return, maybe having forgotten something, or somehow sensing that he was there, waiting for them.

But it was no use. They were gone. And he was lost without them.

Where would he go? He couldn't go back to the Burrow. There was no way he could face his parents and tell them he had abandoned his friends when they most needed him. Fred and George…he could imagine the looks they'd have on their faces, like he was scum, the lowest scum. Fred and George may like a laugh, but when it came down to it, they were loyal, and would never tolerate Ron's betrayal of a friend. And Ginny…she'd be the worst. When she found out Ron had willingly walked away from helping Harry when she herself would have given anything to be there….well, he'd get worse than the Bat Bogey Hex.

But he had nowhere else to go. He supposed he could scour the English countryside, hoping for the very off chance he'd run into Harry and Hermione not under their magical protection for whatever reason…but it seemed more likely he'd find his friends if he stuck close to a news source, that way he'd know if they'd been spotted somewhere, or worse, caught. The thought of his friends being captured without him was like an icy hand clenching his chest. But he had to admit the possibility, and if this happened, he had better be near a radio or something, so he could hear about it and plan a rescue attempt.

But where to stay? He ran through a list of friends in his head. They were all at school or on the run, likely, and even if they weren't, Ron would feel uncomfortable randomly showing up at their homes…and his family was out, as he's decided…but wait. Not all of his family was at the Burrow. Charlie was in Romania, and Bill and Fleur…they were staying in a place called Shell Cottage or something. Bill had told Ron this just before the wedding.

If there was anyone in the family who wasn't going to turn away Ron for what he'd done, it was Bill. Bill had always been mellow, and accepting of other people. He took after Dad that way. He'd rarely teased Ron…Ron supposed it had to do with being the eldest, and having nobody bigger to pick on him all the time that made Bill so easy-going and responsible. Yeah, if there was anyone who'd accept Ron into his house even after what he'd done, Bill was it.

Still, Ron didn't fancy facing Bill and telling him what he'd done. Bill had always acted proud of Ron when he heard about his adventures. Ron could hardly bear to imagine the look of disappointment on Bill's face when he learned how cowardly and stupid his little brother had acted.

But it had to be done. There was nowhere else to go, no other chance of finding his friends.

Ron sighed and pulled himself up. It was only then he realized his eyes were slightly wet. Angrily, he swiped at them. He couldn't believe he'd gotten himself into this mess. He was stranded and separated from his friends, unable to help them, and it was his entire fault. But he couldn't stay here and brood forever. He had to get going.

Hopefully the name "Shell Cottage" would be enough to lead Ron there. Dad Apparated to places he'd never seen all the time, after all. Focusing as hard as he could on the name, he turned on the spot.

The first sensation he felt as he landed in a stumble was that of salty sea air. He was on a small cliff jutting over the sea, and he faced a small, light-colored little house. He wondered briefly if he really had come to the right place, and not just stumbled on another seaside cottage, but Bill and Fleur burst out the door, looking frantic. Apparently they had heard the loud crack when he Apparated.

Bill had his wand out.

"My name is Ron Bilius Weasley, I'm your youngest brother... I used to have a Pygmy Puff named Sliver and when Fred killed him, you helped me bury him and gave the eulogy," Ron said this very fast. Bill lowered his wand with obvious relief.

"Ron! What are you doing here? " he cried. "What's happened to you?"

Looking at his reflection in the windowpane of the little house his brother had burst out of, Ron saw he had a fat lip from being punched earlier, and that he was generally unkempt and dirty. His shirt was muddy and torn, and the bit of cloth he'd wrapped around his injured fingers was completely soaked with blood.

"You are a mess!" Fleur informed him throatily. "Get inside, I will clean you up."

"Oh, it's no big deal," Ron muttered, embarrassed at the fuss. But Fleur was already marching him inside the cottage.

"Where are Harry and Hermione?" Bill asked, looking concerned.

"We, er, got separated," Ron mumbled, feeling his ears heat up. "They're all right, though."

Bill looked curious, but did not press the matter further as Fleur forced Ron down on the couch in the Cottage's cozy little living room, and took out her wand. She fixed his lip in a trice. She also made new skin grow over the open wounds on his fingers.

"I am not sure how to grow ze fingernails back," Fleur frowned. "But I zink zey will grow back naturally if you give zem time."

"Thanks," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from the bizarre sight of his fleshy, nail-free fingers.

"Ron, what the hell is going on? How did you get separated from Harry and Hermione?" Bill asked at last, leaning forward. He was sitting on a chair across from Ron.

Ron could feel the flush creeping over his neck. He was so ashamed to tell them what had happened, especially after they had fussed over him and healed his injuries, something he felt he didn't deserve at all. He tried to find the words as Fleur hurried to make them some tea.

"I…well, I sort of…we've been on this secret mission, you know…" Ron stammered awkwardly.

"For Dumbledore," Bill said, nodding.

"Yeah, well. It's been going sort of…well, slow. We've just been…Harry doesn't really seem to know what he's doing. Dumbledore didn't really tell him anything useful and it's just…I was getting so frustrated locked up in there. Then I heard about Ginny getting in trouble at Hogwarts, and I was really worried about all of you, so I started spouting off. And then, Harry and I…we just…we sort of had a row. And I said I was leaving and then…I left."

Ron was forced to draw breath after mumbling out this awkward speech. He looked up at his brother. The confusion and disappointment on Bill's ravaged face in the silence that followed made his insides burn with shame.

"Ron…" Bill said quietly and carefully. "Harry is Undesirable Number One. He's being hunted everywhere he goes. You-Know-Who himself is using every resource he has to capture and kill him. And Hermione is in danger just for being Muggle-born. You agreed to go with them and to help bring You-Know-Who down. To just walk out on your friends-

"You can't make me feel worse than I already do," Ron said hollowly. "I know it's horrible. I-I felt bad the moment I left, and I wanted to go back. Normally, I don't think I would have left, no matter how pissy I felt but…there's this…this magical object we have. It's been affecting me. I'm not making excuses or anything, but it kind of… brings out the worst in me. Anyway, I wanted to Apparate back to Harry and Hermione immediately, but then these blokes, they grabbed me! They thought I was Muggle born or something, and they wanted to sell me off to the Ministry."

"You got Snatched?" Bill asked sharply.

"What?"

"You got caught by Snatchers. They're the lot that goes around trying to capture Muggle-borns and blood traitors on the run, so they can get a reward for the Ministry. Some of them are really dangerous killers too, and even honorary Death Eaters. I hear Fenrir Greyback's Snatched a few kids…"

"Well, the lot I got were pretty pathetic. I was able to escape when a couple of them got into a fight and the others got distracted."

"You were very lucky, then," Bill said grimly. "If you escaped, why didn't you go back to Harry and Hermione?"

"I tried," Ron said sadly. "But I'm crap at Apparating. It took me forever to find the spot where they were and I Splinched myself and all." He waved his fingers as if they were exhibit A. "By the time I got there…they were…they were gone."

He couldn't help it. He buried his head in his hands. "I am such a prat. They could be anywhere now, and I'll never be able to find them. Neither of them would ever have left me. But I…I am the worst friend ever. And I can't even tell them I'm sorry," his voice cracked slightly, though he hoped it was sufficiently muffled enough by his hands that Bill couldn't hear.

He felt Bill's hand on his shoulder, and looked up blearily. Fleur was there now too, with steaming mugs of tea. She had heard his whole speech. She set down the mugs carefully, and perched on the arm of the chair Bill was sitting on.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Ron," Bill said softly. "And I can tell you really regret yours. You're welcome to stay here, and we can keep on a lookout for news about Harry and Hermione. Maybe you'll be able to find a way back to them."

"Thanks," Ron muttered gratefully. Once again, he felt he did not really deserve Bill's kindness. He sipped a little of his tea, letting its warmth spread through him.

"Maybe 'e should leesten to Potterwach," Fleur said. "Zis could cheer 'im up."

She gave Ron a kind little smile, and Ron was both grateful and ashamed that she too didn't hold a grudge against him for betraying his friends.

"That's a good idea," Bill nodded. He went over to turn on the Wizarding Wireless.

"What's Potterwatch?" Ron asked quizzically.

"Well, all the other channels on Wireless are falling You-Know-Who's line-

"They're following Vol-?" Ron began, outraged, but Bill screamed "DON'T SAY IT!" practically lunging across the room, as if he wanted to clap his hand over Ron's mouth.

"What?" Ron cried, taken aback. "What's wrong?"

"Ron, the name's been Tabooed! It had a curse on it! That's how You-Know-Who's been tracking people. Anyone who says the name, they can be tracked instantly, regardless of magical protection they've put up. Only people in the Order really say the name, so you can see how it would be useful for spotting people who want to resist You-Know-Who. Kingsley nearly got nailed that way; he's on the run now."

"Blimey," Ron gulped. "How long's this been going on?"

"Since the Ministry was taken over, really," Bill said glumly.

Ron gasped. "That explains how those Death Eaters tracked us in Tottenham Court Road!"

"What?"

"Just after we left the waiting, these two Death Eater blokes attacked Harry, Hermione and me. We managed to escape…it must have been after we said the name! Damn! It's lucky I grew skittish about saying it for a while again there…we might have been tracked again if I hadn't!"

"Must have been that Weasley intuition," Bill said, half smiling.

"Merlin, I hope Harry finds out about this before it's too late. He's always saying the damn name, and without me around…" Ron felt cold and scared at the thought.

"Let's tune into Potterwatch," Bill said quickly. "Maybe we'll hear something about him."

"You still haven't explained to me what "Potterwatch" is. It sounds daft."

"It's anything but. Like I said, the other programs are following the Ministry line-

"All of them?" said Ron hollowly.

Bill nodded. To demonstrate, he flicked the radio to a random channel.

"…and to pick Dirigible plums properly…"

"Uh, let's try that again," Bill said, smiling. He turned the knob once more. "Here we go…"

"The hunt is still on for Undesirable Number One, Harry Potter, who is believed to have murdered former Hogwarts headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. The Minister of Magic recently released a statement saying, "Everyone must be on the lookout for Potter. The boy doesn't have the slightest idea what he is doing or what he's up against. He will make a mistake soon enough. And when he does, we will be there, and we will capture him, and use all the force that is necessary to make sure he does not kill again…"

"Turn it off," Ron pleaded, feeling slightly sick. He wondered if Bill wasn't quite as forgiving as he appeared, and if he was punishing Ron by making him listen to this. But Bill obliged, saying "You asked. But don't worry, there's one station that believes in Harry. A lot of the Order are regular contributors. You have to know the password to get it though, and they keep on the move a lot."

"Wow," Ron said as Bill knelt by the radio, tapping it with his wand and muttering "Phoenix…Phoenix…Phoenix…" over and over again. Suddenly, the radio stuttered to life.

"Welcome to Potterwatch, the one station that ISN'T being controlled by a psychotic dictator!" a cheerful voice piped up.

"That's Lee Jordan!" Ron gasped.

"We know," Bill said, grinning,

"This is 'River', the man with the power bringing you the news of the hour! Today there have been a few more deaths the Daily Prophet didn't bother to report- a Muggle household near Spinners End was completely decimated, and only, well, parts of the family residing there were found. It's most certainly the work of Death Eaters, especially since the house is near the place Hogwarts current 'headmaster' used to reside. Also regretted is the death of Dedalus Diggle, believed to have been murdered by Fenrir Greyback for resisting You Know Who, or as we call him, the Chief Death Eater. We thank Dedalus for his bravery and sacrifice, and promise to honor him by continuing to fight the good fight. Let's have a moment of silence to honor these people."

Bill, Fleur and Ron all kept quiet for a few minutes. Ron felt awkward and ashamed. Diggle, as over excitable and goofy as he was, had died fighting, and here Ron had run away from his friends when they needed him.

"Now, for some encouragement: The rumors that Harry Potter has been captured and killed are most likely NOT, let's stress, NOT true. Believe me, if Harry had been so much as spotted, we'd know about it. The fairest assumption right now would be that Harry's safe and on the run. If you DO spot him, help him out. That's our duty as wizards fighting the Chief Death Eater."

Once again, Ron felt his face burn with shame.

"Here to give us the inside scoop on the goings-on of the dark side is our new contributor! We call her, er…Round…I mean…"

"Round?" a female voice snapped. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Sorry, you're just…you are getting a bit…I was distracted…that's all…"

"Is that Tonks?" Ron wondered, recognizing the snarky little voice.

"Yeah," Bill said. "And Lee's right, she's getting really big. Merlin, I'm glad Lupin came to his senses and got back together with her."

"Lupin got back with Tonks?" Ron said, delighted. It was the first good news he'd heard all day. Maybe Harry had known what he was doing when he told Lupin off.

"All right, you lot, this is Rain. Our Ministry insider let me know that twelve more Muggleborns were Snatched today. Remember, if you see the Snatchers going after somebody, try and help. Curse the wankers in the back so the victim can escape… anything. And if you have Muggleborn friends, even acquaintances, get them into hiding. If you can, pretend the Muggleborn is a part of your family, give them a new name; teach them your family tree. Anything can be done to help."

"I offered to do that for Hermione earlier!" Ron told Bill and Fleur. "But she said it wouldn't matter since we were…you know…on the run."

Talking about Hermione made his insides ache, so he quickly stopped and continued to listen to the radio.

"Also, it appears Fenrir Greyback has recruited a few more werewolves to the Death Eaters side," Tonks continued. "Their names are Lycan and Thorpe, and they're savage buggers. Be on the lookout for 'em- you should be able to recognize them well enough, they look just like Greyback- meaning they're bloody ugly and smell like they've taken a nap in the sewer."

Ron, Bill and Fleur laughed. It felt very strange to feel laugh…but good.

"But never fear, the Order has a few werewolves on our side as well," Tonks said, and Ron could hear the smile behind her words.

"Thanks for the information, Rain. Well, that's all for Potterwatch today, but we should be back at the same time tomorrow. Next passwords "Dedalus" in honor of our fallen friend. 'Till then, keep safe."

"That was brilliant!" Ron said as Bill turned off the radio. "They're sticking it to You-Know-Who!"

"Not everyone has a secret mission from Dumbledore, but we do what we can," Bill said, grinning.

"I knew zis would cheer you up," Fleur told him warmly.

Ron flushed at Fleur's attention and for some reason an angry Hermione popped into his head. It appeared when she wasn't there to tell him off in person for fawning over Fleur, his subconscious pitched in for her. Though nowt hat he'd acted like such a prat and left her, he doubted she even cared what he did anymore.

The happiness drained out of him at this thought. He slumped back on the couch, suddenly feeling very tired. He stifled a yawn.

"You should go to bed," Fleur said firmly. "You are clearly exhausted."

Ron saw her glance at Bill, apparently her insistence he get some rest wasn't entirely concern for his welfare and she wanted some time alone with her husband. So he agreed, and Bill showed him to the guest room. He thanked Bill again for having him, and then changed into some pajamas, setting his own wand, the one he had snatched from the Snatchers, and his Delumininator on the nightstand. Though he expected to stay up all night thinking about all the new things he had learned, as well as what a bad person he was, he actually dropped off immediately, truly beat.

That was when he had the first nightmare.

_Harry and Hermione were sitting in their tent, staring at a chessboard. The odd thing was the chessboard didn't have any pieces on it. It was just…empty._

_Harry looked at Hermione, his expression blank. Suddenly the Horcrux dropped onto the chessboard. It spun there, like a top._

"_That changes the game," Hermione said simply._

"_Voldemort likes to prey on the weak," said Harry randomly._

_Suddenly there was a loud, dramatic thunderclap. Harry and Hermione gave a start._

"_Did somebody say my name…?" a low hiss came._

_It was Voldemort, just as Harry had always described him…flat, snakelike, white and blank as ice. His empty red eyes rested on the helpless Harry and Hermione._

"_Harry Potter. Hermione Granger. I have caught you at last," he said. He waved his wand and Harry was suddenly had a gaping bloody hole in his stomach as if he'd been run through with a sword. He jerked weirdly and Hermione let out a terrible scream._

_Voldemort levitated Harry in the air, so that he hung before him like a broken puppet, bleeding all over the floor._

"_Wasn't there supposed to be another boy with you?" Voldemort hissed. "Some useless, complaining boy?"_

_Harry looked Voldemort straight into the eye and talked clearly, even though blood was pouring grotesquely out of his mouth. "He left. He left us."_

"_Ah, a man after my own heart," Voldemort whispered. "Smart of him… leaving while he still had the chance."_

_He jerked his wand again, and Harry fell to the floor, screaming horribly. "And now you die, Harry Potter."_

"_Even though you've…run me through…my soul…is still…intact…" Harry gasped, quoting Hermione._

"_Yes, but what do I care about souls? I am like your friend, my soul is tainted by that locket." Voldemort pointed at the Horcrux. "We both chose our lives over our souls in the end, Potter. You should have made the same choice."_

_Hermione, who had been creeping toward her wand while Voldemort was raving, suddenly snatched it from the ground and threw a curse at Voldemort. He deflected it easily, and slammed Hermione against the tent wall. Then, forcing Hermione to watch, he twisted Harry in midair, and snapped his neck with magic._

_Harry fell to the floor, dead. Hermione let out a cry like she had been physically hurt._

"_And now you have been abandoned by both your friends, Granger," Voldemort said silkily. _

_Hermione looked bravely into Voldemort's empty eyes, her own face set in defiance. "Harry never abandoned me. He's right here, only you've killed him. Ron…Ron left me. He left us both."_

_Voldemort nodded. "He left you to die."_

_And he advanced on Hermione, and her scream pierced the night, and it pierced Ron's heart, pierced his tainted soul and he wanted to hold her, tell her it was all right, and that he had never meant to leave her and that he loved her so, so much…_

And Ron woke up gasping, and sweat and tears were all over his face, leaving his pillow damp and his body drained.

The nightmares continued almost every night. It seemed his subconscious was determined to punish him as much as possible for betraying his friends. The worst ones were the ones where Harry and Hermione were captured and killed, of course. But Ron was also tormented by dreams where Harry and Hermione simply sat there, hating him. These dreams always seemed to end with the same thing, a thing that turned his insides to jelly…

"_He was always useless, wasn't he?" Harry said to Hermione. _

_They were eating dinner outside the tent, a pleasant little picnic. The food was amazingly quite tasty looking._

"_Yes, he was," Hermione agreed firmly. "A sniveling coward. I mean, you're incredibly brave and have all the inside information on You-Know-Who. You're the Chosen One! A hero!"_

"_And you're the smartest person ever to exist," Harry said courteously. "But what did he ever bring to the table? What did he ever contribute?"_

"_He held us back, plain and simple," Hermione told her friend. "We even get better food with him gone. And he proved how useless he was by walking out on us. He isn't even loyal!"_

"_This is true. Look at him compared you," Harry said warmly. "You're so great! How could he have ever thought he was worthy of you?"_

"_You're great too!" said Hermione. "And with Won-Won gone, we have nothing to stop us from truly being one!"_

"_Let's make love by the moonlight, babycakes!" Harry cried, pulling Hermione towards him._

"_Ohhh, Harry…" Hermione kissed him full on the lips. "The kids we have together will be much smarter and cuter than any kids I'd ever make with anyone else. Especially any demon child I'd make with Ron!"_

"_This will be the best sex ever!" Harry cried, nodding. "It will be sex than can only come out of love that is pure as driven snow!"_

"_It will shake the earth in its glory! It will be so mighty You-Know-Who will just surrender!" Hermione agreed. "I bet Ron will even hear it, in whatever festering hole he resides now…"_

_And Harry began to unbutton Hermione's shirt…._

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

"Ron? Is something wrong?" Bill called through the darkness.

"Oh…er…no…" said Ron, lying back on his pillows, realizing the earth was not indeed shaking, and he had just been rolling around in his bed. "Sorry, er, just a nightmare, Bill…"

Another reoccurring dream was the one where he actually managed to find his way back to Harry and Hermione, only to have them cast him away.

"_Go away, Ron," Hermione cried. "We were better off without you."_

"_Mates, listen, I'm really sorry. It was the…I'm not making excuses but the Horcrux, it messed me up a bit and I wanted to come back right away, but then-_

"_Ron, we don't care. We don't need you anymore. We never needed you. Don't try to make up for what you did, you will never be able to," Harry said firmly. "You made your choice when you left. You showed your true colors."_

"_But-_

"_Ohhh, I can't stand the sight of him," Hermione sobbed, turning away. "He's so…HORRIBLE!"_

"_You're upsetting her. Go away now," Harry spat, his voice rising slightly._

"_Please-_

"_I SAID, GO AWAY!" Harry screamed and he punched him in the nose, hard. Ron fell back on the ground, bleeding, looking up at the rage filled Harry._

"_You should have DIED! Died rather than betray your friends!" he shouted, pointing an accusing finger down at Ron. "C'mon, Hermione."_

_And with that, they both vanished into thin air._

_Ron got up, mournfully. He began to trudge away, but someone grabbed his arm._

_It was Peter Pettigrew. "Hey, buddy, don't worry about it. We're all rats here."_

Though it was free of tortured nightmares, the daytime wasn't much better at Shell Cottage. Ron tried to keep himself busy, helping with the cleaning, the cooking and the gardening, as well as listening avidly to the news Bill bought home, but whenever he had a moment alone, his brain took him the same way as all his dreams did: the possibility of his friends being killed, the possibility of his friends becoming more than friends in his absence, and how very much they must both hate him.

When he was tired of being angry at himself, he tried being angry at Dumbledore. It was Dumbledore, after all, who had left them in this mess. It was Dumbledore who had given Harry nothing to go on. And after Harry had trusted him so much! It was Dumbledore who had left them useless, incomprehensible items in his will. Had he really been in league with Grindelwald like that stupid Skeeter said? Was he really mad? Had he just been laughing at Harry all this time, was this his idea of a joke? Was he just trying to make things more difficult? If not, why, why hadn't he told them anything? Why had he made it so damn hard, why had he caused Ron to get so frustrated that he had said those things to Harry?

But in the end, Dumbledore had not caused Ron to do anything; he had not made Ron walk out on his friends. Though he had abandoned Harry in death, Dumbledore had always stuck by Harry in life, which was more that Ron could say for himself.

These thoughts made him restless, and he got out his Deluminator, clicking it on and off, as if hoping it would give him the answers Dumbledore couldn't.

Every day as he listened to the Potterwatch, he felt apprehension building inside him, fearing there would be a report that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger had been caught and killed…and every day he let out a sigh of relief that this had not happened, only to have the apprehension build again.

He sometimes wondered if they already were dead, but no, it would be reported everywhere if the Death Eaters managed to captured Harry Potter. You-Know-Who would trumpet his victory for all to hear.

He also spent his days racking his brains pointlessly for a way he could find Harry and Hermione, but there was nothing he could do. It was an odd feeling, the last thing he wanted was for his friends to get spotted or captured, yet the only way he'd ever be able to know was if they were, and if it was reported.

And as he sat there, fretting about what to do and how to fix things, the wind grew harsh and cold against the cliff face outside…

Christmas was a subdued affair. Bill and Fleur decided to stay home, so as not to let the rest of the family know Ron was staying with them.

When Ron protested, Fleur waved it away, saying "Eet is very good, actually. I do not zink I could bear to 'ear that 'orrible Warbeck woman singing all night."

"We wanted to have a quiet Christmas together, anyway," Bill said, putting his arm around Fleur.

"Yes," Fleur stressed. "_Quiet_. I want a Christmas free from ze "Cauldron Full of 'Ot Strong Love."

So Ron tried not to intrude on Bill and Fleur's holiday and kept to his room. Sitting on his bed and listening to the wind rattle the glass windowpane, he wondered if Harry and Hermione even knew it was Christmas. They'd never really kept track of dates on the run. He hoped they would find out, and at least get some good food in honor of the holiday. They needed a break from that damn Horcrux too, if they were still wearing it…

The next morning he woke up early. He lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling. Unable to go back to sleep, he went to the kitchen and made Bill and Fleur breakfast. One of the things he was doing in weird mock penance for his betrayal was trying to cook more. He remembered how Hermione had complained that he never did it just before he'd left, and so he felt oddly compelled to do it as much as possible now, as if he wanted to make her happy in spirit. He set the scrambled eggs and bacon he had made out on the table, took his own portion and went back upstairs.

He felt oddly antsy. He sat cross-legged on his bed with his plate resting on his knees. With a flick of his wand, he made the radio in his room stutter to life. It was too early for Potterwatch, but he felt anxious enough to check the other n channels for news of Harry and Hermione, if there was any.

"The search for Undesirable Number One continues. Remember, anyone who has seen or had contact with this individual should contact the Ministry immediately. Now, back to the Christmas morning reading of "Snacky the Ice Goblin…"

Nothing new then…once again he didn't know whether to be disappointed or grateful. He worked his way through his breakfast, listening to the warbling of the goblin who wanted nothing more than to be a wizard for Christmas…hadn't this song led to several incidents of goblins attacking humans? Hermione would know. He could just imagine her now.

"_Ron, _Professor Binns only mentioned this in History of Magic a _thousand _times," he could practically here her exasperated voice as if she was in the room next to him. "I mean _honestly, _didn't you _ever _listen?"

"…Ron? When he broke his wand, crashing the car?"

Ron jumped about a foot off the bed, sending his plate clattering to the floor. He looked around wildly, as if expecting Hermione to suddenly be in the room with him. But it was empty, except for the stuttering radio. Had he just imagined he heard Hermione's voice for real while thinking of her? But no…the Hermione in his head had sounded wonderfully Hermione-ish, lofty and confident. The voice he had just heard was weary, almost tearful….and it had come, he was sure, from his pocket.

He plunged his hand into his jeans and out came the Deluminator. It seemed impossible Hermione's voice could have come from that, yet he was sure he had heard it. So, taking a deep breath, he clicked the little silver instrument.

The light in his room went off, but another light appeared…a bright pulsing blue light popped to life outside his window and hung in the air. It reminded Ron forcefully of the blue light around a Portkey, and then a fantastic thought occurred to him: _this light would transport him to where Hermione was. _

He did not know how this realization came to him, but he felt certain of it. The Deluminator did not just turn out lights after all. Dumbledore had left him a link back to his friends. Without further thought, he jumped off his bed and began to pack wildly. Every few seconds he glanced at the ball of light, convinced it would disappear and leave him stranded, but it didn't. He threw in all the clothes he thought they would need: robes, jackets, jeans that fit, a few potions Bill had lying around that might come in handy. He rushed down to the kitchen and grabbed some food, knowing it was very likely Harry and Hermione would need that, and he certainly wasn't keen on more hunger.

He scribbled a note for Bill and Fleur:

_I think I've FINALLY found a way back to Harry and Hermione!!! The Deluminator Dumbledore left me is useful after all!_

_Unless something goes wrong, I won't be back. Thanks for EVERYTHING, and Happy Christmas._

_-Ron._

Then he rushed back to his room, and was relieved to see the ball of light remained there. He threw the food in his rucksack, hoisted it up and grabbed his wand from the bedside table. After a second of hesitation, he grabbed the Snatcher's wand as well. A spare was always useful, after all. He jammed the two wands in his pocket, and cautiously opened his outer bedroom door. He slipped outside, and then began to creep towards the shining light. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do…should he touch it?

He reached out to grab it, and the light slid away. It bobbed all the way to the little garden shed and phased right through the wooden door, which Ron wrenched open to go after it. There the light floated, as if it was waiting for him in this private setting. Ron closed the door behind him, feeling nervous and expectant.

As soon as the door clicked shut and the shed became completely dark, the light began to move toward him. He stood there, rigid and slightly scared as it approached. It bobbed close enough to touch his chest…then it did touch his chest and it sank right through, causing him to gasp and sputter a little.

Suddenly he felt as if his whole body was filled with a solid, happy warmth that seemed to lift him off his feet and make his head as light as a feather. It was like someone was encircling them in their arms…it was, he realized, as if Hermione herself was embracing him and pulling him towards her warm body.

And then he knew, as if he had always known deep down, where Hermione was and that he wanted more than anything in the world to be there too. He turned on the spot, and even the cold compressing darkness that followed failed to douse the warm happy light Hermione had given him.

His feet hit the snow-covered ground with a crunch, and the light floated out of him. He spent a second feeling oddly empty, but then he realized he was in on a little hill, and that Harry and Hermione had to be here too, only under protective charms so he couldn't see them.

He couldn't see them, but could they see him? Or hear him? There was only one way to find out.

So he spent the next several hours tramping up and around the hill and surrounding glen, calling Harry and Hermione's names until his voice was hoarse. But they never emerged. Finally, he decided to have a kip on the nearby hill. His friends would have to show themselves when he emerged to Disapparate, and that was when he would accost them.

He tried not to think about how Harry and Hermione would react when they saw him, or how on earth he would be able to explain himself. There was no point in torturing himself mentally, he'd been doing that for the last month. Now was the time for action, not whining.

Eventually, darkness fell. Since Hermione always insisted on vacating the campsite before dark, Ron knew he must have missed his friends leaving somehow. Instinctively, he took out the Deluminator and clicked it. Another ball of light, another warm feeling and he was off.

This time he was deposited in a frosty wood. There was no one to be found. He swore. Harry and Hermione must have already put their protection up. Once again, he combed the entire forest, shouting for his friends. Once again, he couldn't find them. Would they ever show themselves? Or would he be following them for weeks on end, knowing where they were but unable to talk to them?

He shook his head, as if to knock the frustrated thoughts away. He needed to take a quick nap, that was the ticket. Then he could resume the search for them. He headed for a particularly shady clump of trees, near a small frozen pool. In the shadows, he laid out his sleeping bag.

Suddenly he heard the sound of footsteps, and he straightened up, instinctively drawing his wand.

But what he saw was a shining silver deer, trotting soundlessly towards the snow…and behind her, _Harry. _

Ron felt a huge rush of joy at seeing his best friend alive and intact. Granted, Harry looked even more tired and thin than Ron had remembered. Bathed in the brilliant light of the Patronus, the dark circles under his friend's eyes were looked particularly pronounced.

Ron wanted to run to Harry and greet him, but remained frozen to the spot. Harry seemed intent on his Patronus- was it his Patronus? It looked different that Ron remembered. And what was Harry doing following it around? There were no dementors about.

The Patronus stopped and looked around. Harry broke into a sudden run, as if determined to catch up with it, but the Patronus vanished before he could reach it.

Harry looked annoyed and slightly scared. With a muttered word, he lit his wand. Ron retreated deeper into the shadows, away from the light. After hours of searching, Ron suddenly couldn't bring himself to face his friend. He feared his reaction would be just as Ron had dreamed it. And Harry was acting very odd, too. Ron wanted to be sure he wasn't interrupting something important.

Harry's green eyes scanned the forest, but he didn't seem to spot Ron. Instead, his eyes fell down upon the frozen pool, and he seemed to gasp and stiffen. He dropped to his knees and began to examine the pool, oblivious to his former friend's internal struggle a few feet away.

_Just do it! Go out and talk to him._

No, no, he's clearly busy examining the effects of low temperature on water…wouldn't want to interrupt that…

_You are such a coward. You've been longing to see him for a month, and now you're too much of a git to even talk to him._

Look, I just need a few minutes to get my speech together! I need to figure out the best way to express my deep sorrow!

_Forget speeches. You need to talk to him now, or you never will. It's like ripping off a bandage. You just have to do it._

All right, then. Fine. I'll do it…

But just then, Harry got to his feet.

"Accio sword," he muttered, so softly Ron was sure he had misheard.

Sword? What sword? Was there a sword in that frozen pool? Was it…no…it couldn't be. Was it the real sword of Gryffindor? Was that why Harry and Hermione had come here? Had they somehow figured out the sword was in this forest?

Ron couldn't see inside the pool from where he was standing. He craned his neck and stood on his toes trying to get a better view, but no luck. What in the name of Merlin's pantaloons was the sword of Gryffindor doing in a dingy little forest anyway?

Whatever the reason, Harry could clearly not summon the sword. He was pacing the pool now, and once he muttered to himself, "help."

Ron hesitated, wondering if he should come forth now and offer his assistance. He had taken a step forward when Harry suddenly stopped dead and let out a long sigh. He gave a glance around (Ron wondered if Harry had heard him moving) and then did the maddest thing ever.

He began to take off his clothes right in the middle of the snowy landscape.

Ron watched in stunned disbelief as Harry stripped down to his boxers. With a sickening jolt he saw the Horcrux bouncing against Harry's scrawny chest. There was also an ugly looking scar there that Ron knew Harry had not had before. He felt sicker than ever, Harry had been hurt somehow during his absence.

Harry stood there, shivering and half naked, next to his pile of clothes and his moleskin pouch. Ron was absolutely flummoxed. He certainly wasn't comfortable with approaching Harry in his state…

Harry pointed his wand at the pool and said "Diffindo". Ron heard the ice crack and saw Harry take a deep breath. No…he wasn't going to…he wouldn't…even he wouldn't be mad enough to…

He was. Harry placed his wand on the ground and jumped feet first into the lake. Ron ran a few steps forward, barely suppressing an impulse to yell out at Harry, but Harry didn't appear to notice. Trembling and gasping, he submerged himself completely underwater.

Ron felt cold just watching. Harry was a true nutter. He waited for his friend to emerge from underwater, probably swearing loudly. He could see the lake properly now. There were bubbles in the water where Harry was breathing, and there were choppy waves like Harry was thrashing around under there…he must have been under a minute by now, what was he playing at?

And then, quite suddenly, the waves stopped, and there were no bubbles at all.

Ron's launched himself into action without even thinking. He was running as fast as he could towards the lake, and he thought he saw something like the hem of a black cloak whipping through the trees, but he had no time to investigate, he had to get to Harry.

When he reached the lake, he did not hesitate, he did not think of the unbearable cold that awaited him, he just jumped in after his best friend.

The cold was horrible, it seemed to frost his body and pierce his brain, but even worse was the sight of Harry, with his hands clawing uselessly at the locket that had twisted itself around his neck like a garrote. Ron grabbed his friend and tugged at the locket, but it was no use. It was wound so tight that it had cut into Harry's flesh and Ron could see the red blood floating lazily upward in the green water around them. Harry's eyes had rolled up in his head and his hands had stopped clawing, they were limp now, limp and floating…

The locket was trying to forcibly drag Harry to the depths of the pool, away from the sword…the sword! Ron grabbed it, and with a mad swipe, he cut the Horcrux free from Harry's neck. It felt hot and unpleasant in his hand. He dropped it, as well as the sword, and grabbed the still unconscious Harry under the armpits, hoisting him above water and shoving him onto land. Then he grabbed the sword and still pulsing Horcrux and clambered onto land himself.

He could barely keep his balance on the snowy ground as he gasped and coughed, shivering violently in the freezing air. He looked down at Harry, who was pale and still. For one terrified second, he thought Harry might be dead. But then his friend began to cough and spit out water, and blinking blearily, Harry raised a trembling hand to his bleeding, Horcrux-free neck.

And Ron did not hesitate with what to say to Harry, he was not afraid or awkward when he spoke to the friend he had walked out on, the friend whose life he had just saved. He was not torn about what greeting he should give the boy he had been longing to see and beg forgiveness from for a month. He said the first thing on his mind. He asked a question he'd wanted to ask Harry for a very long time.

"Are – you - _mental?"_

And that said it all, really.


	4. If these things could speak: Crookshanks

_A/N: Back when I was...man, maybe thirteen? I participated in a thread in an online Harry Potter message board called ThinkPotter, and there was a thread calle_d "If these things could speak" _where we did short POV peices from various objects and animals in the Harry Potter world. Well, I was looking over these last night, and I found two: one I did for Crookshanks, and one I did for the Time Turner. I was rather fond of both of them, so I took them and cleaned them up. So here's a very short little vignette about what it's like to be Crookshanks, and unable to tell that stupid* Ron Weasley his rat is evil. :p_

*_No, you KNOW I don't think Ron is stupid, but trust me, Crookshanks does._

**If These Things Could Speak: Crookshanks**

I leap lightly into my girl's warm and welcoming lap and devour my prey. I hear a noise of disgust from the red haired boy and also a bit of fear. He does not like the animal I have caught. I glare at him, daring him to try to hurt me. I know he dislikes me and he likes the deceitful animal. Idiot.

The girl croons at me. She is praising me for my valiant defeat of the disgusting eight legged creature, I think.

And then I smell it. I smell the deceit, the lies, the hatred, the cowardice. It is hick as smoke and just as putrid. It is coming from a bundle of cloth. It does not love the stupid boy as the stupid boy loves it. It does not love anyone. It is too hateful, too cowardly to love. It is a disgusting creature, horrible and tainted. When I kill it, I will not even bother to eat it. It will not be tasty like the other sumptuous, wriggling creatures of its kind. It is not one of them, though it pretends to be. It has merely taken their form. It is something darker, more dangerous, some great evil in a small body. I will kill it, and I will not eat it, for I am sure it will not taste like a squeaker. I will leave it to rot. I will take not pleasure in killing it, like I did the eight legged creature. It is just something that must be done.

I know it. I must kill it or it will hurt me. It will hurt me, my girl, the stupid boy and the green eyed boy. And I admit I care for my girl, possibly the boys too, even the red head, though he is an idiot to love the horrible thing so.

I must go. I must act.

NOW! I pounce on the cloth, tying to tear through. I must reduce this false squeaker to a bloody pulp so it will never rise again. Anger and adrenaline rush through me. This time I will succeed…

The boy yells and holds the cloth, but I hang on, clinging. He will not get between me and my mission this time!! He spins the cloth and my claws hurt badly. I feel as if they are being pulled from my body.

My girl makes a noise of fear. The filthy creature scampers out of the cloth and I free myself from it, rushing after him..

The idiot boy lets out a hunting cry and one of his kin make a lunge for me, but I am too quick. All I am focused on is the false squeaker. I must catch it. I must end its miserable life and its threat to me and my pride with a claw through it's hard. I must peel its flesh off and bury it in a dark corner where none will ever see it again.

But, Alas! It escaped under a block of wood, hiding like the coward it is. I still don't give up, I put my paw under the table to swipe at it, but it has crawled too far back. My girl rushes over and grabs me, hugging me to her chest. The red haired boy grabs the wretched creature by its tail and it wriggles like a serpent. He shouts insults at me, the stupid boy. My girl tries to defend me, but she is near tears.

The green eyed boy watches blankly, not knowing the danger he is in. The stupid boy, he is defending the false squeaker, but I am too filled with frustration and hatred to care. I nearly got him! But he wriggled away from me at the last minute once again.

I struggle to get at him again, but it is hopeless. More meaningless noise comes out of the idiot boy's mouth and the deceitful thing laughs at me. The idiot boy stalks away, leaving me with bitter defeat and my girl full of sadness.


	5. If these things could speak: Time Turner

_A/N: Another short piece I did a loooong time ago, all cleaned up. THIS "If these things could speak" is from the point of view of the Time Turner! It's not much, But I couldn't resist posting it, it fits so well with the title of this series, doesn't it?_

I remember the day fondly…

I sat blindly in the dark, feeling dust settle around me. Voices, faint and indistinguishable echoed in the distance. I stared blankly ahead. Many years had I sat, waiting. Years, days, months…they were my area and I never grew tired of them. But still, I longed to be used. To be Turned.

Suddenly light burst in and a face appeared. It was lined and severe with a stern expression. I recognized her by her square spectacles and tight bun. It was the woman bought me here from my resting place in the dark room with my fellows.

She grabbed me roughly and bought me out into the light, setting me on the hard, sweet smelling wood surface of her desk. I felt as if I had been reborn, cast into the light like this. A young girls' face, alert and curious, loomed in front of me. She had an inordinate amount of bushy brown hair and large front teeth that stick out slightly. Her brown eyes examined me.

"What is it, Professor?" she asked.

"It is a Time Turner, Miss Granger," The woman answered.

" A Time Turner? Like in _The Controlling of Time: A Wizards Quest_?" the bushy haired girl asked, awestruck.

"Well, yes," there is a bit of suppressed amusement in the woman's voice. "Now Miss Granger, it has come to my attention that you did not merely sign up for two of the extra subject taken third year, but all of them?"

Well, I just couldn't decide!" she said earnestly. "I wanted to take them all! There's so much to learn!"

"But Muggle Studies?" said the woman " I thought you were Muggle Born."

"Yes, but I wanted to look at them from a Wizarding point of view!"

"Well," the woman cleared her throat, and I could tell she was stifling a chuckle . "It is wonderful that you have so much ambition, Miss Granger, but you see, these subjects overlap."

"Oh," the girls face fell.

" But, that is why I am about to give you this." She gestured towards me casually.

The girl's jaw dropped.

"I wrote many letters to the Ministry of Magic about authorizing you to use this Time Turner. I explained to them how you were a model student, ambitious in your learning and how responsible you were… which is to say I did not mention the school rules you broke in your first and second year," the woman finished sternly.

The girl blushed ever so slightly.

"I told them you would never use the Time Turner in matters other than study. They eventually allowed me to give it to you."

"Oh, no, Professor, of course I wouldn't use it for matters other than study." The girl said, her face shining with earnestness ,"Never!"

"I know you wouldn't, Miss Granger. Nor will you tell anyone about this Time Turner" the woman answered smoothly.

"Not even Harry and Ron?"

"No, not even Potter and Weasley. You must keep this a secret."

"All right, Professor."

" Now one turn equals one hour, Miss Granger. If you turn it once, you will go an hour back in time. If, lets see, you have Divination and Arithmancy at the same time you might go to Arithmancy and when you are finished, turn it back about two hours and go to Divination. Do you follow?"

"Yes, I think so," Said the girl.

"If you have any problems, please come to me. Also, you must not be seen going back in time. Terrible things have happened to wizards who have met their past and future self. Once a wizard went back in time and his past self saw him and his past self killed his future self, because the wizard thought he was going mad."

The girl shuddered at the woman's words.

"Do you understand, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, Professor." The girl nodded vigorously. "I must not be seen."

Very well, Miss Granger." The woman sighed. "I trust you. You may go. If you have any difficulties, please come see me."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall."

The girl scooped me up in her warm hands, her eyes alight with awe and curiosity. She ran her fingers against me. She then pulled my chain around her neck and tucked me deep inside her robes, where I lay against her breast, safe, warm and sleepy. Darkness swirled and that is how I spent the year, snuggled under her robes, until she would take me out and spin, spin, spin me...I would spin back, back, through the past until the past was now the future, to be redone, restarted, reborn. I am Time and Time is me. I command it, I spin it out of control and then reel in back in. I eat up moments and spit them out to be twice as long, to be relived differently at least time. I turn over the old leaf and make it a new one.

I turn everything backwards and upside down and around for the girl, and she cannot take it, I feel her hands get shakier, gaunter, limp and exhausted each time she turns me. She feels dizzy and so do I. Dizzy with how much she turns, and she turns and turns until she cannot see where she is going, and neither can I. Time is not to be played with. She must know that. She must know that...

"I've been using it all year to get to my lessons."

I was back in the cupboard with an older, paler, gaunter Hermione and the skinny boy.

I had forgotten I was only remembering the day, not reliving it. Or perhaps I had been reliving it. It is easy to get lost in the past. The Granger girl knows that. But I must focus on the present. I must know why the Granger girl is not using me for her studies, after she promised the woman that is all she would use them for. I listen closely to her words, hoping for a clue…


	6. Secret Scenes in the Hospital Wing

_A/N: This is something I wrote pre HBP. I've added in a few things and cleaned up the grammar a little, but essentially it's the same. It's just Ron and Hermione in the Hospital wing post DOM Battle in OotP. Very quiet, no action, and lots of speculation. The titles for different sections are from back when it was seperated into chapters. I just left them there because they amuse me._

**Secret Scenes from the Hospital Wing**

Hermione enjoyed it when Ginny, Neville, Harry and even Luna visited her. It kept her mind off what had happened in the Department of Mysteries when the room was full and noisy. She liked talking to her friends in the boring hospital wing and wanted to know what was going on in the school. Right now, reading the Daily Prophet and watching Ron tease Umbridge, she was happy.

"Speaking of centaurs," she said, "Who's Divination teacher now? Is Firenze staying?"  
Harry, who hadn't spoken in a while, but rather watched, said "He's got to, hasn't he? The other centaurs won't take him back, will they?"

"Looks like he and Trelawney are both going to teach," added Ginny.

"Bet Dumbledore wishes he could've got rid of Trelawney for good," Ron said, while pigging out on chocolate frogs. "Mind you, the whole subjects useless if you ask me, Firenze isn't a lot better,"

Before she would have agreed, but it was like Luna said, she'd had the proof Divination wasn't all wool shoved in front of her and at she at least knew enough to believe what she saw.

"How can you say that after we've just found out there are real prophecies?" she asked Ron.

She was startled to see Harry's face jump and his whole body stiffen as she said this. What was wrong with him? She pressed on cautiously.

"It's a pity it broke…"

"Yeah, it is," Ron said, oblivious to the sudden change in Harry's mood. "Still, at least You-Know-Who never found what was in it either-"

Suddenly Harry jumped up, his face rigid.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked looking disappointed.

"Er, Hagrid's" Harry said, not looking at Ron. "You know, he just got back and I promised I'd go down and see him and tell him how you two are…"

"Oh, all right," Ron said, looking longingly out the window. "Wish we could come…"

But Harry was already heading towards the door.

"Say hello to him for us!" Hermione called. "And ask him what's happening about…about his little friend!"

Harry did not respond, but merely gave a little wave to show he'd understood. He disappeared into the hall and Ginny waited until his footsteps were faint before saying "What's his problem?"

"His godfather just died, Ginny," Ron said in a tired voce.

"Well, he leaves the room whenever we mention the Prophecy," Ginny explained. "You noticed, didn't you?" Ginny turned to Hermione.

Hermione nodded. Harry didn't mind talking about other things, but even though they didn't talk about Sirius for his sake, he never seemed to want to talk about the Prophecy. Hermione thought Harry might be curious about the Prophecy's contents, but perhaps Harry didn't care.

"Maybe he doesn't want to talk about anything connected with Sirius," Hermione said vaguely.

"You know that isn't it," Ginny said impatiently.

Hermione gave in and sighed, nodding. Yes, of course she knew. Harry was obsessing over something besides Sirius, that much was certain, though she couldn't imagine what.

"Yes, I know," Hermione said heavily.

"What?" Ron said, confused. Luna even looked up from her Quibbler in interest. Neville watched silently.

"He'll tell us eventually," Hermione said. "I'm sure.

"How can you be sure?" Ginny asked. "He never told us why he wanted to see Sirius."

"He'll tell us about this," Hermione said firmly.

Ron shifted uncomfortably.

"You know, maybe we shouldn't be talking about Harry," he said. "He hates it when we talk about him."

"Well, if he hung 'round for longer than five minutes, we wouldn't have to!" Ginny said hotly.

"Give him a break Ginny," Neville said quietly.

Ginny raised her eyebrows at Neville, but shook her head and sighed.

"I have a question," Neville said. "Wasn't Sirius Black trying to kill Harry? Didn't he steal my passwords and attack Ron?"

"Sirius was innocent," Ron explained. "My rat was the real culprit."

"Er…" Neville said.

"It's a long story, Neville." Hermione said quickly.

"What about Scabbers?" asked Ginny, confused.

"Your rat was Stubby Boardman?" Luna asked.

"No, he was Peter Pettigrew!" Ron exclaimed

"I thought Crookshanks ate your rat," Neville mused.

"Long story!" Hermione interrupted.

She found herself laughing and stopped abruptly. Laughing felt wrong when Harry was so miserable.

There was an awkward silence.

Finally Ron said, "I wonder what curse that Death Eater hit me with."

Everyone was surprised when Luna said "I don't know. You were quite disoriented, though."

Hermione wondered how Luna managed to read and listen at the same time. She must figure it out someday, she decided.

"I bet I made a real prat of myself," Ron said miserably

Hermione restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Ron was so insecure! He just didn't understand that he was smart and funny and kind and good looking!  
Hermione blinked. Good looking? Where had that come from? She shook her head. Must be the medicine.

"Did I make a prat out of myself?" Ron probed.

"I wouldn't know," Hermione said wryly. Her face fell at the memory of her defeat.

"You were amazing, Hermione." Neville said quietly.

"I wasn't at all," Hermione said, now as miserable as Ron.

"Sure you were. You got that Death Eater off Harry in the Hall of Prophecy and fixed my pratfall by stunning that one man-the one who turned into a baby- and if you hadn't silenced Dolohov, the others would have found us."

Hermione shook her head. Neville's words were true, but Hermione felt she could've been better. She shouldn't have gotten distracted. She should have stunned Dolohov, not silenced him. She shouldn't have let him curse her. She twisted her sheets in her hands. I'll do better next time, she vowed.

She came abruptly back to earth at the sound of Ginny's voice.

"You were good too, Ron. You blew up Uranus in that guys face." Ginny said.

For some reason, Neville suddenly looked like he was about to laugh. Ginny's mouth twitched too, but Luna merely turned a page in her Quibbler.

"What?" Ron said indignantly.

"Nothing," Ginny said quickly.

Ron grunted and shoved two whole chocolate frogs in his mouth. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Ron, I'm already in the hospital wing, don't make me even more sick," she said.

Her thoughts kept straying back to Harry.

"I wonder if he _really_ went to Hagrid's."

"Tinkteteldedefru" Ron mumbled through a mouthful of frog."

"What?" Ginny said.

Ron swallowed. "I think he's telling the truth."

Ginny shrugged, and then glanced at her watch. "It's almost time for lunch. We'd better go down. We'll come and see you two again soon."

"Bye," Neville said.

"So long," Luna murmured, closing her Quibbler.

And with that, they were gone, leaving Ron and Hermione alone again.

Hermione peered anxiously out the window. She couldn't see much of the grounds from this angle. She sighed and slumped down on her bed. She and Ron shared despairing looks and both glanced at Hermione's newspaper. HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS.

Why? Hermione thought miserably. Why didn't you believe us? If you had, things might have been different. If you had, Sirius might not have died. If you had…maybe we'd be okay now. Instead of lost at sea.

**The Voices of the Dead**

Hermione tried hard to make conversation with the statue at the edge of Ron's bed. Oh yes, Harry responded normally to Hermione's questions, but his face was blank and his eyes far away and Hermione could tell he didn't want to be here.

"Harry, you don't have to stay here if you don't want to," Hermione said gently.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, but he didn't even bother to look confused.  
"If you need some time alone…"

"Don't play dumb with me Harry. I can tell you're not comfortable. It's okay, I know you're still upset about Si-

"Hermione!"

Hermione gritted her teeth. She wished Ron would stop shushing her, it was really annoying. But maybe he had a point. Some people, like Cho, deal with grief by talking constantly about it and some people, like Harry, deal with it by locking it up deep inside. She supposed she dealt with it the talking way, though she hoped she wasn't as annoying as Cho. Or Harry, she thought, staring into the emotionless face of her friend.

_She_ missed Sirius too. Not as much as Harry, but Sirius had been her friend also. She had helped save him from getting his soul sucked out, after all. So, yes, of course she was sad, she was very sad, but mostly she was worried about Harry.

Okay, she thought. She couldn't talk about the Department of Mysteries, even though it was completely dominating her thoughts…something lighthearted. She wasn't very good at jokes, but…

"Harry, I feel sorry for you, sleeping in Ron's dormitory all this time," she said quickly. "His snoring kept me up all last night"

For an instant she regretted saying that, because Ron's ears turned red, but then he laughed.

Harry didn't even smile, but he said "Neville's much louder, believe me."

"How do you know you don't snore?" Ron said, pretending to be offended.

"I talk in my sleep, isn't that enough?" Harry said and his face twitched slightly.

Hermione looked pleadingly at Ron for a distraction.

"Well," Ron said quickly "You do snore. And Hermione snores too! And not little ladylike snores, big honking ones, like a train."

Hermione wondered if that was true or if Ron was making it up to distract Harry. She watched Ron talk on and wondered how she could answer the question that had been nagging her ever since Neville, Luna, Ginny and Harry's visit. She was so frustrated she felt like simply saying "Prophecy" and gauging Harry's reaction, but she'd have to be a little more subtle than that.

She interrupted Ron's rambling. "Ahem…um, Harry, remember in our third year, you told us later that Trelawney might've made a real prophecy…"

Harry jumped up. "I have to go," he mumbled.

"Where to now?" Ron asked

"Dinner," Harry said. "See you." He walked out the door very quickly.

Hermione checked her watch. It was three thirty.

"Well, that settles it, then," she said matter of factly. "Ginny was right. It is something about the Prophecy."

"What, though?" Ron said, gazing at the space on the edge of his bed where Harry had been sitting seconds ago.

"Perhaps Harry knows its contents," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"Do you think?" Ron said. "Then why doesn't he tell us?"

Hermione shrugged. "Perhaps he will, soon enough."

"What do you think was in it?" Ron asked.

Hermione thought hard. There was something, something she wasn't grasping, that was oh so close. But her brain was to clouded with emotions and medicine .

"I can't imagine," Hermione said. "Harry will tell us soon if it's important, though.

_I hope, _she thought to herself.

Ron shrugged his shoulders, looking gloomy. Madam Pomfrey entered the room and began fussing with the bedsheets. Hermione felt awkward sitting there in silence, and cast around for something to discuss with Ron that wouldn't make Madam Pomfrey suspicious.

"I should ask Ginny to pick up some books from the library next time she comes by," Hermione settled on saying.

"Why?" Ron groaned.

"Well," Hermione laughed, "For one thing I _like_ to read and for another, I'm curious as to what curse I'm under."

"Yeah, I want to know what that Death Eater cursed me with as well!" Ron exclaimed.

"You two could simply ask me. I'm the one who cured you after all," Madam Pomfrey said wryly.

"Oh!" Ron said as Hermione blushed slightly. "Okay, so what was it?"

"The spell you were hit with was designed to cause massive blood loss," Madam Pomfrey said primly.

"What? I wasn't bleeding!" Ron protested.

"Not visibly," Madam Pomfrey told him. "On the inside."

Hermione gasped. "See, Ron, that's why you were so disoriented. Blood loss can make you really light headed and punch drunk. Did you have the other symptoms, like extreme pallor and bleeding from the mouth?"

"Well, yeah, Ginny told me I did…"

"Well, then it should have been obvious to you what happened!

"Excuse me, I never bloody memorized a medical textbook!" Ron muttered.

"Nevertheless, the label of the potion I gave you the first few days of your stay may have given you a clue," tutted Madam Pomfry, producing a bottle labeled _Blood Replenishing Potion._

"Oh, er…I didn't really look…"

"As for you Miss Granger, it's a bit more complex. The curse you were hit with was designed to cause multiple organ failure. If your attacker had been able to voice the curse, this would have been immediate. Fortunately for you, it was not spoken, but it caused quite enough internal injuries to be getting on with, and it's lucky I got to you when I did," said Madam Pomfrey severely. She softened a little bit at the shocked look on Hermione's face. "Don't worry, dear, you'll recover in time. But both of you could have quite easily died. I hope this teaches you a lesson about doing reckless things like breaking into the Ministry of magic and fighting Death Eaters!"

With that, she gave the bedspread a final whack with her wand and went back to her office. Ron rolled his eyes while Hermione digested the new information.

"Well, I still want to do a bit of reading on the Department of Mysteries," she said after a while.

"Find out what that brain thing that attacked me is!" Ron suggested.

"Yes, I also want to find out about the veil!" Hermione told him. "But I imagine that any information to do with the Department of Mysteries will be hard to find. Thing concerning that department are kept under lock and key."

"But we're good at poking around," Ron persisted.

"Yes," Hermione said, smiling faintly. "That we are. But you will have to read, Ron."  
Ron's face fell and Hermione laughed.

" I have some guesses about the Brain and the Veil though." Hermione said. "But only guesses. We need to verify them."

"What?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Well, the brain could be memory…the memory of everything that ever happened…or knowledge…all the knowledge in the universe and all the secrets. The veil, I think, is a passage to where you go when you die. Think about it. Sirius fell into the veil, now everyone says he's dead. Well, he is dead, not properly, but he's in the world of the dead and he can never come back. Harry heard voices behind the veil, remember? And so did Neville and Ginny and Luna. Why? Well, Neville and Harry and Luna can she the Thestrals and Ginny had a near death experience in the Chamber of Secrets and who knows how many near death experiences Harry's had. Someone who's had…experience…with death can hear the voices behind the veil…the voices of the dead," she finished.

Ron stared at her.

"That's wild!"

"I know," Hermione admitted. "But that's the only explanation I can think of . It sounds like something Luna would cook up, but I did read somewhere that the Unspeakables were researching where you…where you go when you die.""

"That's easy," Ron said. "In the grou-"

"Oh, honestly, Ron, you know I'm talking about souls!"

"Why was the veil in an amphitheater though?" Ron mused.

"I read that a long time ago they used to execute wizards who committed heinous crimes. They never said how, though."

"You don't suppose-"

"Maybe," Hermione said.

Ron shook his head.

"Weird."

"These are just theories, though, Ron," Hermione said, leaning back down against her pillows. "We need to research-"

"I know, I know," Ron grumbled. "Want a chocolate frog?"

"Oh, all right," Hermione said.

As Ron handed her the frog, his hand brushed against Hermione's. She pretended not to notice, but smiled faintly. Ron's ears turned red, but he smiled too.

**Released**

"We're getting out?" Hermione asked excitedly. "Really?"

"Yes, yes," Madam Pomfrey said disapprovingly. "Eat first, though!"

Hermione took her food, happy to finally be leaving the hospital wing.

"Finally!" Hermione exclaimed to Ron. "I thought I might die of boredom."

"Me too," Ron said, as he swept his remaining sweets into his bag and then proceeded to wolf down his food. " 'Ust in 'ime 'or the feast, 'oo."

"Is food all you ever think about?" Hermione shook her head, but smiled. Same old Ron.

Not same old Harry, though, she reminded herself.

"I wonder what next year will be like," Hermione wondered aloud.

" 'Oo-know-'oo's back," Ron pointed out through a mouthful of food an' everybody knows it." He swallowed "At least. So things at school should be a bit better."

"And worse," Hermione noted. "He has no reason to lie low any more and you know what that means."

Ron nodded grimly.

"So it'll be different," Ron concluded.

"Yes," Hermione said, smiling slightly. "Different."

Hermione chewed her food thoughtfully, while Ron wolfed down his and soon they were finished with their meal.

They had just pushed their empty trays away when Madam Pomfrey called "Someone's here to see you!"

Ron and Hermione looked around. Harry stood at the door.

"Hi. Has Madam Pomfrey let you out?"

"Yeah," Ron said, bounding up from his bed.

"About time, too!" Hermione said. "We're healed.

Harry did the closest thing to a smile he'd done since he'd burst in saying Voldemort had kidnapped Sirius. Hermione and Ron grinned broadly back.

A lot of things were changing, Hermione thought as they walked out the door together, but one thing would never change. The three of them would always be friends.

And for now, that was enough.


	7. Harrysexual

_A/N: This is just a short little ficlet I wrote for someone when they responded to my sporking of DAYD. Basically I made a sarcastic comment about Ginny rubbing in that she knows all about Harry's sexual stamina to Colin and that she knows he's disappointed she got their first and the commenter said he'd love to see a fic of Colin stalking Harry and Ginny in their "stolen moments" during HBP...and viola this thing was born.  
_

Harry was kissing Ginny hungrily, his hands running through her long red hair. She would occasionally adjust him slightly when he rubbed against her nose too much, smiling up at him. That was one of the great things about Ginny. She would always correct him if he did something wrong, gently, silently and they would get to business. He liked that she could communicate, and that she didn't mind that he was a little less experienced than her at snogging. He let himself forget everything in the corner of the dark corridor, forget everything but her and the fact she was there for him, that she liked him, that she was rubbing the back of his neck as her lips brushed his softly...

Suddenly, she jerked away, her hand clamping down so hard on his neck that he yelled "Gah! What was that for?"

Ginny just glared.

"Did I do something wrong?" Harry asked nervously.

"Colin, I am going to break that camera AND you, not necessarily in that order," Ginny snarled, and Harry realized she wasn't glaring at him, but a spot behind him.

He spun around to see Colin Creevey looking sheepish with his old fashioned camera slightly raised.

"COLIN!"

"I just wanted to study your technique a bit...and the lighting is really good down here..." Colin mumbled.

"Colin, it is DARK," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"You have to stop this," Ginny sighed.

"He's been doing this for a while?" Harry asked, horrified.

"Yes, Harry, you haven't been very observant...he's been following us for ages."

Harry had to admit his observation tended to shut down when Ginny was around. This could be a problem in the future.

"How's his stamina? I mean, does he keep kissing for a really long time, or does he get tired after a while?" Colin asked Ginny eagerly. "Does he ever get all despairing about his tragic past? How do you comfort him? Is he still...ripe for the snogging after a traumatic experience?"

"Colin, this is getting out of control," Ginny sighed as Harry deeply wished he could curl up on the floor and die. He thanked the stars for Ginny. Any other girl would have dumped him after this little episode. "You have a crush on Harry, right? Well, he's taken."

"I don't have a crush!" Colin looked offended. "I just want to find out everything about him! Ask Dennis, I am NOT gay."

"I did ask Dennis. He says you're Harrysexual," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "Beat it, Colin. You're a nice kid, but if you do this again, I will have to show you why Fred and George fear the bat-bogey hex."

"So I take it the stamina's not that great?" Colin asked meekly.

"He has excellent stamina," Ginny snapped, pulling out her wand with a dangerous look. "And you have three seconds to leave."

Colin scampered up the hall. Ginny turned back to Harry, who was vaguely wondering if Dumbledore would understand if he decided not to fight Voldemort due to the fact he wanted to hide in his sock drawer for the rest of his life. But he felt better when Ginny smiled.

"Good stamina, eh?" he said in what he hoped was a casual tone.

"Oh, the best," Ginny said mock-seductively. "Want to see if we can go a solid hour of snogging?"

"Wild Death Eaters couldn't stop me," Harry grinned. He leaned in for the kiss...and heard the sound of a shutter behind him.

"COLLLLINNN!" Ginny roared, and she charged down the hall, her wand raised and a swarm of flying bogeys beginning to rise from it like a cloud of angry locusts. Colin gave a squeal of fright and ran for his life.

Harry sighed. Sometimes, you just had to admit the mood had been ruined.


End file.
